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SHORT ACCOUNT /^ff^ 0 ) 



OF THE 



LIFE AND DEATH 

OF THE 

Rev. JOHN FLETCHER* 
Vicar of Madeley : 

BY THE REV. JOHN WESLEY. 

TO WHICH IS SUBJOINED, 

AN VW-;.. - - '* 15 . • 

ADDITIONAL ACCOUNT 

„ ©>F THAT 

"* * 

fRULT GREAT AND VENERABLE MANS 

BY THE REV. JOSHUA GiLPXN, 
Vicar of Rockwai dine. 



\ <*OV yi I. 



NEW-YORK : 

PUBLISHED BY JLZEKIKL COOPER if JCHN ILSOK* 
NO. c J^y, PEARl'SIKEET. 

W. C. ROBINSON, PRINTER. 



1805. 




Cfje property of 




TO THE 

READER. 



J\TO man in England hois had so long an acquaintance 
with M\ Fletcher as myself* Our acquaintance began 
almost as soon as his arrival in London, about the year 
1752, before he'enteredinto Holy Orders, or (I believtj 
had any such intention. And it continued uninterrupted 
between thirty and forty years, even till it pleased God 
to take him to himself Nor was ours a slight or ordi- 
nary acquaintance ; bui we were of one heart and of one 
soul. We had no secrets between us for many years : 
we did not purposely hide any thing from each other. 
From time to time he consulted me, and I him, on the 
most important occasions. And he constantly professed, 
not only much esteem, but ( what I -valued far mpre ) 
much affection. He told me in one of his letter s 7 ( I doubt 
not from his heart ) 

a Tecum vivere amen ; tecum obeam lubens : 
With thee 1 gladly would both live and die." 

/ therefore think myself obliged by the strongest ties^ 
to pay this small tribute to his memory. But you may 
easily observe, that in doing this, I am little more than a 
compiler. For I owe a great, if not the greatest part 
of the ensuing tract, to a few friends, who have been at no 
small pains, in furnishing me with materials : and above 



IV 

all, to my dear friend, ( such she has been almost from her 
childhood ) Mrs. Fletcher. / could easily have altered 
both hers and their language, while I retained their sen- 
timents. But I wcu> conscious, I could not alter it for the 
better : and I would not alter for altering sake ; but 
judged it fairest to give you most of their accountSfVcry 
nearly in their own words. 

JOHN WESLEY. 



September 12, 1786. 



LIFE AND DEATH 



OF THE 



REV- JOHN FLETCHER. 



CHAP. I. 

Of hh Parentage and Ycuth, 

i. JOHN WILLIAM DE LA "FLECHERE 
(this was properly his name) was born at Nyon in Swit- 
zerland, a town about fifteen mites north of Geneva, 
on September the twelfth, in the year 1729. His 
father was an ofHcer in the French service? till he 
left the army in order to marry. But after a time 
he returned to the army, and was a colonel in the 
militia of his own country. 

2. In his early childhood he had much of the 
fear of God, and great tenderness of conscience.... 
One day, having offended his father; who threatened 
to correct him, he did not dare to come into his pre-, 
sence, but retired into the garden : and when he saw 
him coming toward him he ran away with all speed, 
A 2 



But be was presently struck with deep remorse, and 
said to himself, M What ! Do I run away from my 
father ? Perhaps I shall live to have a son, that will 
run away from me ! And it was several years before 
the impression, which he then received, was worn off. 

3. Another instance of his tenderness of consci- 
ence occurred, when he was about seven years of 
age. He was one day reproved by the nursery- 
maid, saying, "You are a naughty boy. Do you not 
know, that the devil is to take away all naughty chil- 
dren V 9 He was no sooner in bed, than he began to 
reflect very deeply upon her words. He thought, "I 
am a naughty boy. And how do I know, but God 
may let the devil take me away this night." He then 
got up and wrestled with God in prayer, for a consi- 
derable time. And he would not go to bed again, 
till he believed God had forgiven him. 

4. The following accounts Mr. Fletcher himself 
gave to Mr. Samuel Webb, of London, then reside 
ing at Madeley. 

" When I was a lad, I had a design to get some 
fruit out of my father's garden. The door being 
locked, 1 could not get in, but by climbing over the 
wall. This was very high ; but with some difficulty, 
I got to the top of it. As I was walking upon it, my 
foot slipped, and I fell down to the bottom. But just 
where I fell, a large quantity of fresh-made mortar 
was laid. I fell exactly upon it. This broke my 
faii, or it might have cost memy life. 



7 



5. " Once as I was swiming by myself in a deep 
water, one end of a long strong ribbon which bound 
my hair, getting loose 1 know not how, and twisting 
about my leg, tied me as it were neck and heels. I 
strove with all my strength to disengage myself : but 
it was to no purpose. No person being within call, 
I gave myself up for lost. But when I nad given 
qver struggling, the ribbon loosed of itself. 

6. « Another instance of the tender care which 
God had over me was as follows. One evening I 
and four young gentlemen in high spirits, made a 
solemn agreement with each other, to swim the next 
day to a rocky island, five miles distant from the 
shore. But this foolish adventure was within a very 
little of costing us our lives. I and another indeed 
did with great difficulty and hazard swim to the 
island. But when we came thither, the rock was so 
steep and smooth, that we could not possibly climb 
up. After swiming round several times, and making 
many ineffectual efforts, we thought we must perish 
there. But at length one of us found a place, where 
he made a shift to crawl up. He then helDed his 
companion after him; the others swam about half 
way. A boat then took them up, when they were 
just sinking. Another boat, which we had ordered 
to follow us, afterwards came and took us home," 

7. A still more remarkable deliverance it is,of which 
he gave an account in the year 1760. Some years 
since I lived at a place very near the river Rhine. In 
that part, it is broader than the Thames at London- 
Bridge, and extremely rapid. But having been long 



6 



practised in swiming, I made no scruple of going 
into it at any time. Only I was always careful to 
keep near the shore, that the steam might not carry 
me away. Once, however, being less careful than 
usual, I was unawares drawn into the mid-channel. 
The water there was extremely rough, and poured 
along like a galloping horse. I endeavoured to swim 
against it, but in vain, till I was hurried far from 
home. When I was almost spent, I rested upon my 
back, and then Jooked about for a landing place, 
finding I must either land or sink. With much dif- 
ficulty I got near the shore. But the rocks were so 
ragged and sharp, that I saw, if I attempted to land 
there, I should be torn in pieces. So I was con- 
strained to turn again to the mid-stream: at last, 
despairing of life, I was cheered by the sight of a 
line smooth creek, into which I was swiftly carried 
by a violent stream. A building stood directly across 
it, which I did not then know to be a powder mill. 
The last thing I can remember was, the striking of 
my breast against one of the piles whereon it stood. 
I then lost my senses, and knew nothing more, till 
I rose on the other side of the mill. When I came 
to myselt, I was in a calm, safe place, perfectly well, 
without any soreness or weariness at all. Nothing 
was amiss but the distance of my clothes, the stream 
having driven me five miles from the place where I 
left them. Many persons gladly welcomed me on 
shore: one gentleman in particular, who said, "I 
looked when you went under the mill? and again 
when you rose on the other side. And the time of 
your being immerged among the piles, was exactly 
twenty minutes,'* 



9 



But some will say, "why this was a miracle !" 
Undoubtedly it was. It was not a natural event; 
but a work wrought above the power of Nature, pro* 
bably by the ministry of angels. 

8. When he was yet very young, his father sent 
him to the University of Geneva. After he had 
gone through the usual coure of study, it was the 
desire of his parents, that he should be a clergyman. 
But it was his own desire and resolution, to be an 
officer in the army. No* being able to gain their 
consent to this, he, without their consent, went away 
to Lisbon. Here he gathered a company of his own 
countrymen, accepted of a captain's commission, and 
engaged to serve the king of Portugal, on board a 
man of war, which was just them getting ready with 
all speed, in order to sail to Brazil. He then wrote 
to his parents, begging them to send him a consider- 
able sum of money. Of this he expected to make a 
vast advantage. But they refused him roughly: 
unmoved by this he determined to go without it, as 
soon as the ship sailed. But in the morning, the 
maid waiting on him at breakfast, let the tea-kettle 
fall, and so scalded his leg, that he kept his bed for a 
considerable time after. During that time, the ship 
sailed for Brazil. But it was observed, that ship was 
heard of no more, 

9, But how is this reconcileable with the account 
which has been given of his piety when he was a 
child ? Very easily : it only shews, that his piety 
declined while he was at the University. (And this 



10 



is too often the case of other youths, in our own Uni- 
versities.) But it pleased God at or before his journey 
to England, to lift up his head again . 

10. His desire of being an officer in the army 
continued after he returned from Lisbon. And when 
he was informed, that his unc\e, then a Colonel in the 
Dutch service, had procured a commission for him, he 
joyfully set out for Flanders. But just at that time 
the peace was concluded; and his uncle dying quickly 
after, his hopes were blasted, and he gave up all 
thoughts of going into the army. And being disenga- 
ged from all business he thought it would not be 
amiss, to spend a little time in England. 

11. Coming to the custom-house in London, with 
some other young gentlemen, none of whom could 
speak any English, they were treated with the utmost 
surliness and ill-manners, by some brutish custom- 
house officers. These not only took out, and jumbied 
together, all the things that were in their portman- 
teaus ; but took away all their letters of recommenda- 
tion ; telling them, " All Letters must be sent by the 
post." They are such saucy and ill-mannered wretch- 
es as these that bring up an evil report on our Nation. 
Britons might well be stiled Hospitibus feri, if they 
were ail like these vermin. 

12. From hence they went to an inn; but here 
they were under another difficulty. As they spoke 
no English, they could not tell how to exchange their 
foreign, into English money : till Mr. Fletcher going 



to the door, heard a well-drest Jew talking French* 
He told him the difficulty they were under, with re° 
gard to the exchange of money. The Jew replied, 
" Give me your money, and I will get it changed in 
five minutes." Mr. Fletcher without delay gave him 
his purse, in which were ninety pounds. As soon as 
he came back to his company, he told them what he 
had done. They all crkd out with one voice, " then 
your money is gone. You need never expect to see 
a crown or a doit of it any more. Men are constantly 
waiting about the doors of these Inns, on purpose to 
take in young sti angers." Seeing no remedy, no way 
to help himself, he could only commend his cause to 
God. And that was enough. Before they had done 
breakfast, in came the Jew, and brought him the 
Whole money. 

13. Enquiring for a person who was proper to 
perfect him in the English tongue, (the rudiments of 
which he had begun to learn before he left Geneva) 
he was recommended to Mr Burchell, who theniept 
a boarding schpol, at South -Nimms in Hertfordshire. 
And when Mr.feurchell removed to Hatfield, he chose 
to remove with him. All the time he was both at 
South-Nimms and at Hatfield, he was of a serious and 
reserved behaviour; very different from that of the 
other young gentlemen, who weie his ft How students. 
Here he diligently studied both the English language, 
and all the branches of polite literature. Mean time 
his easy and genteel behaviour, together with his em- 
inent sweetness of temper, gained him the esteem as 
well as the affection, of all th U conversed with him. 
He frequently visited some of the first families in 



12 



Hatfield, who were all fond of his conversation: so 
Hvely and ingenious at the same time, evidencing 
both the gentleman and the scholar. All this time 
he had the fear of God deeply rooted in his heart. 
But h« had none to take him by the hand, and lead 
him forward in the ways of God. he stayed with 
Mr. Burchell about eighteen months, who loved him 
as his own son. 

14. Afterwards one Mr. Dechamps, a French 
minister, to whom he had been recommended, pro- 
cured him the place of tutor to the two sons of Tho- 
mas Hill, esquire, at Tern-Hall, in Shropshire. In 
the year 1752, he removed into Mr. Hili's family, 
and entered upon the important province of instruct- 
ing the young gentlemen. He si ill feared God, but 
had noi yet an experimental sense of his love. Nor 
was he convinced of his own fallen state, till one Sun- 
day evening, a servant came in to make up his fire, 
while he was writing some music, who looking at him 
with serious concern, said, " Sir, I am sorry to see 
you so employed on the Lorci's-day." At first his 
pride was alarmed, and his resentment moved at be- 
ing reproved by a servant. But upon reflection, he 
felt the reproof was just. He immediately put away 
his music, and from that very houi, became a strict 
observer of the Lord's-day . 

15. I have heard two very different accounts of 
the manner wherein he had the first notice of tne 
pco^ic called Methodists. But I t:ink it reasonable 
to prefer to any other, that which I received tvom his 
own mouth. This was as follows: 



13 



When Mr. Hill went up to London to attend the 
Parliament, he took his family and Mr. Fletcher with 
him. While they stopped at St. Albans, he walked 
out into the town, and did not return, till they were 
set out for London. A horse being left for him, he 
rode after, and overtook them in the evening. Mr. 
Hill asking him, why he stayed behind? He said, 
" As I was walking, I met with a poor old woman, 
who talked so sweetly of Jesus Christ, that I knew not 
how the time passed away." I shall wonder, said 
Mrs. H, if our tutor does not turn Methodist by and 
by. " Methodist, madam, said he, pray what is that I" 
She replyed, " Why, the Methodists are a people that 
do nothing but pray: they are praying all day and 
all night.'' " Are they? said he, then by the help 
of God, I will find them out, if they be above ground." 
He did find them out, not long after, and was admit- 
ted into the society. And from this time, whenever 
he was in town, he met in Mr. Richard Edwards's 
class. This he found so profitable to his soul, that 
he lost no opportunity of meeting. And he retained 
a peculiar regard for Mr. Edwards, till the day of his 
death, 



8 



14 



CHAP. II. 

Of his Conversion to God. 

I. IT Will be most satisfactory to the serious 
reader, to give an account of this in his own words. 
They run thus. « The twelfth of January, in the 
year 1755, I received the Sacrament of the Lord's 
Supper, though my heart was as hard as a stone. 
The following day I felt the tyranny of sin more than 
ever, and an uncommon coldness in all religious du- 
ties. I felt the burden of my corruptions heavier than 
ever: there was no rest in my flesh. I called upon 
the Lord, but with such heaviness, as made me fear 
it was lost labour. Many a time did I take up the 
Bible to seek comfort ; but not being able to read, I 
shut it again. The thoughts which engrossed my 
mind were these. I am undone. I have wandered 
from God more than ever. I have trampled under 
foot the frequent convictions which God has wrought 
in my heart. Instead of going straight to Christ, I 
have wasted my time, in fighting against sin, by the 
sole use of the means of grace : as if the means would 
do me good, without the blessing of God. I never 
had faith : and without faith it is impossible to please 
God. Therefore all my thoughts, words, and works, 
however specious before men, are utterly sinful 
before God. And if I am not changed before I go 
hence, I am lost to all eternity. 

2. When I saw that all my endeavours availed 
nothing agajnst my conquering sin, I almost gave up 



15 



all hope, and resolved to sin on and go to hell. Yet 
I had a strange thought, "If I do go to hell, I will 
praise God there. And since I cannot be a monu- 
ment of his mercy in heaven. I will be a monument 
of his justice in hell." But I soon recovered my 
ground.' I thought, Christ died for all. Therefore 
he died for me. He died to pluck such sinners as I 
am out of the devil's teeth. And as I sincerely desire 
to be his, he will surely take me to himself. He will 
•surely let me know before I die, that he has died for 
me. If he leaves me for a while in this dread ful state, 
it is only to shew me the depth he draws me out of. 
But then I thought perhaps he will do it only at my 
dying hour. And must I sin on till then ? How can I 
endure this? But I thought again, My Saviour was 
above three and thirty years on earth. Let me wait 
for him as many years, and then I may have some 
excuse for my impatience. Does God owe me any 
thing? Is he bound* to time or place ? Do I deserve 
any thing- at his hands but damnation ? Yet anger was 
always one of the sins which I could not overcome. 
I went on sinning, and repenting, and sinning again r 
but still calling on God's mercy through Christ. 

3. I was now beat out of all my strongholds. I 
felt my helplessness ; and lay at the feet of Christ. 
I cried, « Save me, Lord, as a brand plucked out of 
the fire ! Give me justifying faith : for the devil will 
surely reign over me, till thou takest me into thy 
hand. I shall only be an instrument in his hand to 
work wickedness, till thou stretch out thy almighty 
hand, and save thy lost creature; by free, unmerited 



16 



grace. " I seldom went to private prayer, but this 
thought came into my mind, this may be the happy 
hour, when thou wilt prevail with God ! But still I 
was disappointed. I cried to God : but my heart 
did not go with % my lips. 1 prayed, but often could 
hardly keep awake. When overcome with heavi- 
ness, I went to be J: beseeching God to spare me till 
the next day, that I might renew my wrestling with 
him, till I should prevail. 

4. On Sunday, the nineteenth in the evening, 1 
heard an excellent sermon on these words : Being jus- 
tified by faith, we have peace with God, through cur 
Lord Jesus Christ. I heard it attentively, but my 
heart was not moved. I was only still more convin- 
ced, that I was an unbeliever, and that till I had faith, 
I should never have peuce. The hymn after ser- 
mon suited the subject : but I could not join in sing- 
ing it. So I sat mourning, while others rejoiced. I 
went home, still resolving to wrestle with the Lord, 
like Jacob, till I should become a prevailing Israel. 

5.1 begged of God the following day, to shew 7 me the 
wickedness of my heart. I besought him to increase 
my convictions : for I was afraid I did not mourn 
enough for my sins. ButI found relief in Mr, Wesley's 
Journal, where I learned, that we should not build 
on what we feel, but go to Christ with all our sins, and 
all our hardness of heart. On the twenty-first 1 wrote 
down part of what filled my heart,namely,aconfession 
of my sins, misery, and helplessness, together with a 
resolution to seek Christ even unto death. In the 



17 



evening I read the Scriptures, and found a sort of plea- 
sure, in seeing a picture of my own wickedness exact- 
ly drawn in the third of the Romans, and that of my 
present condition in the seventh. I often wished to 
be acquainted with some body, who had been in my 
condition, and. resolved to seek for one, to whom I 
might unbosom my whole soul. On Thursday sat an 
beset me hard : I sinned and grievously too. And 
now I almost gave up all hope : I was on the brink of 
despair; and nevertheless continued to fall into sin 
as often as I had temptation. But I must observe, 
that though I frequently thought, hell would be my 
portion, yet I never was much afraid of it : whether 
this was owing to a secret hope, or to hardness of 
heart, I know not. But I was continually crying out, 
What stupidity ! I see myself hanging over hell, as 
it were by a single thread 1 And yet I am not afraid j 
but sin on !G what is man without the grace of God I 
Avery devil in wickedness, though inferior to him in 
power ! In the evening I went to a sincere friend, and 
told him something of my state. He endeavoured to 
administer comfort. But it was not suited to my state. 
When we parted he gave me some advice which was 
better suited to my condition. " God, said he, is 
merciful. God lovts you, and if he denie you any 
thing it is for your good. You deserve nothing at his 
hands; but wait patiently for him, and never give up 
your hope." I went home resolved to follow his ad- 
vice, though I should stay till death. 

6. I proposed to receive the Lord's Supper on 
the following Sunday. I therefore returned to my 

b 2 



13 



room, and looked out a sacramental hymn. I learn- 
ed it by heart, and prayed it over many times, in- 
tending to repeat it at the table. Then I went to 
bed with rather more hope and peace than I had 
felt for some time. But satan waked, though I slept. 
I dreamed I had committed a grievous and abomi- 
nable sin. I awaked amazed and confounded, but 
fell upon my knees and prayed with more faith than 
usual : and afterwards went about my business with 
an uncommon cheerfulness. It was not long before 
I was tempted by my besetting sin : but I found it 
had no power. My soul was not even ruffled. I 
took no notice of this at first. But having withstood 
the temptation again and again, I perceived it was 
the Lord's doing. Afterwards it was suggested, It is 
presumption for such a sinner, to hope for so great a 
mercy. I prayed, that I might not be in a delusion ; 
and the more I prayed, the more clearly I saw itw r as 
real. For though sin stirred ail the day long, I always 
overcame it in the name of the Lord. 

7. In the evening I read the experiences of some 
of God's children, and found mine agreed with theirs. 
Hereby my faith was strengthened, and my hope 
considerably increased : I intreated the Lord, to deal 
with his servant according to his mercy, and take all 
the glory to himself. I prayed earnestly, and was 
persuaded, I should have peace with God and domin- 
ion over sin : not doubting but the full assurance also 
would be given in God's good time. I continued call- 
ing on him for an increase of faith, (for still I had 
some fear of being in a delusion.) And having con- 



fc9 



tinued my suplication, till near one in the morning, 1 
opened my Bible on those words, " Cast thy burden 
cnlhe Lord, and he shall sustain thee. He vjill not suffer 
the righteous to be moved' 9 Filled with joy, I fell 
upon my knees, to beg of God that I might always 
cast my burden upon him My hope was now greatly 
increased ; and I thought I saw myself conqueror over 
sin, hell, and all manner of affliction. 

8. With this comfortable promise I shut up my 
Bible* being now perfectly satisfied. As I shut it, I 
cast my eyes on that word, Whatsoever ye shall ask in 
my name I will do it. So having asked grace of God 
to serve him till death, I went cheerfully to bed. 5 ' 

9. So far we have Mr, Fletcher's own account, 
under his own hand. From this time he had the wit- 
nessin himself : he knew that he had redemption through 
the blood of Christy even the forgiveness of sins. But 
he still continued pleading with the Lord, to take 
a fuller possession of his heart : till one day, as he 
was in earnest prayer, lying prostrate on his face be- 
fore God, he saw as it were, our blessed Lord, hang- 
ing and bleeding pn the cross. And at the same 
time those words were spoken with power to his 
heart. 

" Seiz'd by the rage of sinful men 

I see him bound, and bruis'd, and slain : 

5 Tis done 1 The martyr-dies I 
His life, to ransom ours is given : 



20 



And lo ! the fiercest fire of heaven 
Consumes the sacrifice. 

He suffers both from men and God ! 
He bears the universal loud 

Of guilt and misery ! 
He suffers to reverse our doom : 
And lo ! my Lord is here become 

The bread of life to me ¥* 

10. I believe this was in January, 1756, in the se- 
cond year after he removed to Tern. Now all his 
bonds were broken: he breathed a purer air, and was 
able to say with confidence, The life I now live. Hive 
by faith in the Son of God, who loved me, and gave 
himself for me. By means of this faith, sin was wi- 
der his feet. Knowing in whom he had believed, he 
could continually triumph in the Lord, and praise the 
God of his salvation. 

11. From this time he walked cheerfully, as well 
as valiently in the ways of God 1 He closely follow- 
ed his master, denying himself and taking up, his cross 
daily. And thinking he had not leisure in the day 
for the great work which he had in hand, he made it 
an invariable rule to sit up two whole nights in a 
week. These he dedicated to reading, meditation, 
and prayer, in order to enter more deeply into that 
communion with the Father and the Son, which was 
the delight of his soul. Mean time he lived entire- 
ly on vegetable food, and for some time on bread 
with milk and water. None can doubt that these aus- 



5 1 



terlties were well intended. But it seems they were 
not well judged. It is probable, they gave the first 
wound to an excellent constitution, and laid the foun- 
dation of many infirmities, which nothing but death 
could cure. 



CHAP. III. 

From his Conversion to hh settling at Madelcy. 

1. IT was not long after he had himself tast- 
ed the powers of the world to come, that he was 
pressed in spirit, to exhort others to seek after the 
same blessing. And he was the more strongly ex- 
cited to this, by seeing the world all around him lying 
in wickedness. Being deeply sensible of the good- 
ness of God on the one hand, and the misery of man- 
kind on the other, he found an earnest longing 

" To pluck poor brands out of the fire, 
" To snatch them from the verge of hell." 

This he began to do a considerabie time before 
he was admitted into holy orders. Ami even his first 
labours of love were far from being in vain. For 
though he was by no means perfect in the English 
tongue, particularly with regard to the pronunciation 
of it ; yet the earnestness with which he spoke, (sel- 



22 



dom to be found in English preachers) and the un- 
speakable tender affection to poor, undone sinners, 
which breathed in every word and gesture, drew 
multitudes of people to hear him : and by the bless- 
ing of God, his word made so deep an impression on 
their hearts, that very few went empty away. 

2. From this time till he undertook the direct care 
of souls, he used to be in London, during the sitting 
of the parliament, and the rest of the year at Tern- 
Hall (as it was then called) instructing the young 
gentlemen. Every Sunday he attended the parish 
church at Atcham. But when the service was end- 
ed, instead of going home in the coach which was al- 
ways ready, he usually took a solitary walk by the 
Severn side, and spent some time in meditation and 
prayer. A pious domestic of Mr. Hill, having fre- 
quently observtd him, one Sunday desired leave to 
walk with him, which he constantly did from that 
time. The account which he (Mr. Vaughan, still 
living in London) gives of Mr. Fletcher, is as fol- 
lows : " It was our ordinary custom, when the 
church service was over, to retire into the most lone- 
ly fields or meadows ; where we frequently either 
kneeled down, or prostrated ourselves upon the 
ground. At those happy seasons I was a witness of 
such pleadings and wrestlings with God, such exer- 
cises of faith and love, as I have not known in any 
one ever since. The consolations which we then receiv- 
ed from God, induced us to appoint two or three 
nights in a week, when we duly met, after his pu- 
pils were asleep. We ms$ also constantly on Sun- 



23 



day, between four and five in the morning. Some- 
times I stepped into his study on other days. I 
rarely saw any book before him, besides the Bible 
and the Christian Pattern. And he was seldom in any 
other company, unless when necessary business re- 
quired, besides that of the unworthy Writer of this 
paper." 

3. " When he was in the country, he used to 
visit an officer of excise at Atcham, to be instructed 
in singing. On my desiring him to give me some 
account of what he recollected concerning Mr. Fletch- 
er, he answered thus : " As to that man of God, Mr. 
Fletcher, it is but little that I remember of him ; it be- 
ing above nine and twenty years, since the last time I 
saw him. But this I well remember, his conversation 
with me was always sweet and savoury. He was too 
wise to suffer any of his precious moments to be tri- 
fled away. When there was company to dine at Mr. 
Hill's, he frequently retired into the garden, and con- 
tentedly dined on a piece of bread, and a few bunch- 
es of currants. Indeed, in his whole manner of living, 
he was a pattern of abstemiousness. Mean time, how 
great was his sweetness of temper and heavenly -mind- 
ness i I never saw it equalled in any one. How often, 
when I parted with him at Tern- Hall, have his eyes 
and hands been lifted up to heaven, to implore a bless- 
ing upon me, with fervour and devoutness unequalled 
by any I ever saw I F firmly believe, he has not left 
in this land, or perhaps in any other, one luminary 
like himself. I conclude, wishing this light may be 
so held up, that many may se^ the glory thereof, and 



24 



be transformed into its likeness. May you and I, and 
all that love the Lord Jesus Christ, be partakers of 
that holiness, which was so conspicuous in him !** 

4. " Our interviews for singing and conversation 
(continues Mr. Vaughan, who was often present on 
these occasions) were seldom concluded without pray- 
er. In which we were frequently joined by her that 
is now my wife (then a servant in the family :) as 
likewise by a poor widow in the village, who had also 
known the power of God unto salvation, and who died 
some years since, praising God with her latest breath. 
These were the only persons in the country, whom 
he chose for his familiar friends. But he sometimes 
walked over to Shrewsbury, to see Mrs. Glynne, or 
Mr. Appleton : (who likewise now rests from his la- 
bours, after having many years adorned the gospel.) 
He also visited any of the poor in the neighbourhood, 
that were upon a sick-bed. And when no other per- 
son could be procured, performed even the meanest 
offices for them." 

5. It was in the year 1757, that he was ordained 
both deacon and priest. He was ordained at White- 
hall : and the same day, being informed, that I had 
no one to assist me at West-street chapel, he came 
away as soon as ever the ordination was over, and 
assisted me in the administration of the Lord's Sup- 
per. He was now doubly diligent in preaching, not 
only in the chapels at West-street and Spitalfields, 
but wherever the Providence of God opened a door 
to proclaim the everlasting gospel. This he fre- 



25 

quently did, not only in English,, but likewise in 
French, his native language : of which he was allow- 
ed by all competent judges to be a complete master. 

6. " The first time, says Mr. Vaughan, he preached 
in the country, was at Atcham-Church, on June 19, 
1757. His text was, James iv. 4. (a very bold begin- 
in g ! ) Ye adulterers and adulteresses^ know ye not^ that 
the friendship, of this world is enmity against God ? 
The congregation stood amazed, and gazed upon him, 
as if he had been a monster. But to me he appear- 
ed as a messenger sent from heaven." 

7. It was not soon, that he was invited again to 
preach in Atcham-Church. But he was invited to 
preach in several other churches in the neighbour- 
hood. He was invited to preach at Wroxeter, and af- 
terwards, at the Abbey-Church in Shrewsbury. But 
not being yet perfect in the English tongue, he wrote 
down all the sermons he preached in churches. But 
I doubt whether he preached above six times in the 
six months while he stayed in the country. On my 
telling him, I wished he had more opportunities of 
preaching in this unenlightened part of the land, he 
answered, " The will of God be done : I am in his 
hands. And if he does not call me to so much pub- 
lic duty, I have the more time for study, prayer, and 
praise." 

8. In the year 1758, there were many French 
iprisoners on their parole at Tunbridge. Being de- 
sired to preach to them in their own language, he 
readily complied. Many of them appeared to be 

c 



26 



deeply affected, and earnestly requested, that he 
would preach to them every Lord's-Day. But Some 
advised them, first to present a petition to the bishop 
of London for leave. They did so : and (who would 
believe it ?) the good bishop peremptorily rejected 
their petition ! If I had known this at the time, king 
George should have known it : and I believe he would 
have given the bishop little thanks. An odd in- 
cident followed. A few months after, the bishop 
died of a cancer in his mouth. Perhaps some may 
think, this was a just retribution, for silencing such 
a prophet, on such an occasion ! I am not a shamed 
to acknowledge, this is my own sentiment : and I do 
not think it any breach of charity to suppose, that 
an action so unworthy a christian bishop, had its 
punishment in this world. 

S. When he returned from London in the same 
year, he was more frequently invited to preach in 
several of the neighbouring churches. And before 
his quitting the country, he gave me a few printed 
papers, entitled, " A Chrismas-Box, for Journeymen 
and Apprentices." I mention it the rather, because 
I suppose this was the first thing which he ever pub- 
lished. 

10. It was in the beginning of June 1759, that he 
returned the last time from London to Tern-Hall. 
And being now less frequently called to public duty, 
he enjoyed his beloved retirement, giving himself 
up to study, meditation and prayer, and walking 
closely with God. Indeed his whole life was now a 
life of prayer : and so intensely was his mind fixed 



27 

upon God, that I have heard him say, " I would not 
move from my seat, without lifting up my heart to 
God." Wherever we met, if we were alone, his 
first salute was, " Do I meet you a praying V* And 
if we were talking on any point of divinity, when we 
were in the depth of our discourse, he would often 
break off abruptly, and ask, " Where are our hearts 
now ?" If ever the misconduct of an absent person 
was mentioned, his usual reply was, u Let us pray 
for him." 

1 1. It was, as I remember, about the close of this 
summer, that he was frequently desired, sometimes 
to assist, at other times to perform the whole ser- 
vice for, Mr. Chambers, then vicar of Madeley. On 
these occasions it was, that he contracted such an 
affection for the people of Madeley, as nothing could 
hinder from increasing more and more to the day 
of his death. While he officiated at Madeley, as he 
still lived at the Hall, ten miles distant from it, a 
groom was ordered to get a horse ready for him, 
every Sunday morning. But so great was his aver- 
sion for giving trouble to any one, that if the groom 
did not wake at the time, he seldom would suffer him 
to be called ; but prepared the horse for himself. 

12. In answer to some queries concerning him, 
a gentleman who was intimately acquainted with him 
for many years, wrote to me as follows : 



28 



« Dear Sir, 

" My aversion to writing letters increases with 
my declining years. And yet I most willingly pay 
this debt to the precious memory of an old friend.... 
I dwelt near him only two or three years : but our 
intimacy was great. And perhaps I may be able 
to present you with some particulars which you have 
not seen before. 

13. About the year 1760, he shewed me, at his 
lodgings, a rope with pullies, which he used for ex- 
ercise : and added with a smile, that the devil often 
tempted him to hang himself therewith. I said, the 
desire of women is a temptation far more dangerous 
than this. He answered with surprize (or rather, as 
it seemed to me, with a degree of contempt) " In 
all my life I never felt that temptation : no, not in 
any degree." But it is dangerous for a christian, 
how great or good soever he may be, to despise an- 
other for being tempted. When we met again, he 
acknowledged, he had been plagued like other men, 
with that formerly unknown temptation." 

14. In the same year, the living of Madeley fell 
vacant, and Mr. Fletcher was presented to it, which 
he accepted in preference to another, that was of 
double the value. He embraced it as his peculiar 
charge, the object of his most tender affection. And 
he was now at leisure to attend it, being fully dis- 
charged from his former employment. For his pu- 
pils were removed to Cambridge. The elder of 
them died about the time of his coming of age. The 



younger first represented the town of Salop (as his 
father had done) and afterwards the county : till he 
took his seat in the house of peers, as Baron Ber- 
wick, of Atcham-House. This is now the name that 
is given, to what was formerly called Tern-Hall. 

CHAP. IV. 

From his settling at Madcley^ to his leaving Trevecka* 

1. HE settled at Madeley, according to his 
desire, in the year 1760. And from the beginning, 
he was a laborious workman in his Lord's vineyard. 
At his first settling there, the hearts of several were 
unaccountably set against him : insomuch that he 
was constrained to warn some of these, that if they 
did not repent, God would speedily cut them off.... 
And the truth of those predictions was shewn over 
and over, by the signal accomplishment of them..., 
But no opposition could hinder him from going on in 
his Master's work, and suppressing vice in every 
possible manner. Those sinners, who endeavoured 
to hide themselves from him, he pursued to every 
corner of his parish ; by all sorts of means, public 
and private, early and late, in season and out of sea- 
son, intreating and warning them to flee from the 
wrath to come. Some made it an excuse, for not 
attending the church-service on a Sunday morning," 
that they could not awake early enough to get their 
c 2 



so 



families ready. He provided for this also. Taking 
a bell in his hand, he set out every Sunday at five in 
the morning, and went round the most distant parts 
of the parish, inviting; all the inhabitants to the house 
of God. 

2. Yet notwithstanding all the pains he took, he 
saw, for some time, little fruit of his labour : inso- 
much that he was more than once in doubt, whether 
he had notTnistaken his place : whether God had in- 
deed called him, to confine himself to one town, or to 
labour more at large in his vineyard ? He was not free 
from this doubt, when a multitude of people flocked 
together at a funeral. He seldom let these awful op- 
portunities slip without giving a solemn exhortation. 
At the close of the exhortation which was then given, 
one man was so grievously offended, that he could 
not refrain from breaking out into scurrilous, yea 
menacing language. But notwithstanding all his 
struggling against it,the word fastened upon his heart. 
At first indeed he roared like a lion ; but he soon wept 
like a child. Not long after, he came to Mr. Fletch- 
er in the most humble manner, asking pardon for his 
outrageous behaviour, and begging an interest in his 
prayers. This was such a refreshment as he stood 
in need of ; and it was but a short time, before this 
poor broken-hearted sinner was filled with joy un- 
speakable. He then spared no pains in exhorting 
his fellow-sinners, to flee from the wrath to come. 

3. It was not long after, when one Sunday evening, 
Mr. Fletcher, after performing the usual duty at Ma- 
deley, was about to set out for Madeley-Wood, to 



31 



preach and catechize as usual. But just then notice 
was brought (which should have been given before) 
that a child was to be buried. His waiting till the 
child was brought, prevented his going to the Wood. 
And herein the Providence of God appeared. For at 
this very time, many of the colliers, who neither fear- 
ed God, nor regarded men, were baiting a bull, just 
by the preaching-house. And having had plenty of 
drink, they had all agreed, as soon as he came, to bait 
the parson. Part of them were appointed to pull him 
off his horse, and the rest, to set the dogs upon him. 
One of these very men afterwards confessed, that he was 
with them when this agreement was made : and that 
afterwards, while they were in the most horrid man- 
ner, cursing and swearing at their disappointment, a 
large china punch-bowl, which held above a gallon, 
without any apparent cause (for it was not touched 
by any person or thing) fell ail to shivers. This 
so alarmed him, that he forsook all his companions? 
and determined to save his own soul. 

4. From the beginning he did not confine his la- 
bours to his own parish. For many years he regu- 
larly preached at places, eight, ten, or sixteen miles 
off : returning the same night, though he seldom got 
home before one or two in the morning. At a little 
society which he had gathered about six miles from 
Madeley, he preached two or three times a week, be- 
ginning at five in the morning. As for visiting the 
sick, this was a work for which he was always ready : 
if he heard the knocker in the coldest winter night, 
his window was thrown open in a moment. And 
when he understood, either that some one was hurt 



32 



in the pit, or that a neighbour was likely to die ; no ccn= 
sideration was ever had of the darkness of the night, 
or the severity of the weather ; but this answer w r as 
always given, " I will attend you immediately. f * 

5. But in one respect Mr. Fletcher has frequent- 
ly been blamed ; namely, for deserting a place where 
God had eminently owned him : I mean Trevecka 
in Wales. I believe- it is therefore my bounden duty, 
to clear up the whole affair. And I cannot do this 
better, than by transcribing the substance of an ac- 
count which I have received from Mr. Benson, in an- 
swer to my enquiries. 

6. " My acquaintance with him, says he, commen- 
ced when I was at Kingswood, I think in the year 
1768. As he now and then made a short excursion 
from Madeley, to Bath and Bristol, in one of those 
excursions we invited him to give us a sermon at 
Kingswood. He was peculiarly assisted while he was 
applying those encouraging words, Him that cometh 
unto me, I will in no wise cast out. The people were 
exceedingly affected ; indeed quite melted down. 
The tears streamed so fast from the eyes of the poor 
colliers, that their grizzly, black faces were washed 
by them, and almost universally streaked with white. 
And as to himself, his zealous soul had been carried 
out so far beyond his strength, that when he conclud- 
ed, he put off a shirt which was as wet as if it 
had been clipped in water. But this was nothing 
strange ; whenever he preached, it was generally the 
ease. From this time I conceived a particular esteem 
for him, chiefly on account of his piety : and wished 



33 



much for a greater intimacy with him ; a blessing 
which I soon after obtained. 

7. " For about this time the Countess of Hunting- 
don erected a seminary at Trevecka, in W ales, in 
order to educate pious young men, of whatever de- 
nomination, for the ministry. She proposed to ad- 
mit only such as were converted to God, and resolv- 
ed to dedicate themselves to his service. They were 
at liberty to stay there three years : during which 
they were to have their education gratis, with every 
necessary of life, and a suit of clothes once a year: 
afterwards those who desired it might enter into the 
ministry, either in the established church of En- 
gland, or among protestants of any other denomina- 
tion. From the high opinion which the Countess 
had of Mr. Fletcher's piety, learning, and abilities for 
such an office, she invited him to undertake the direc- 
tion of that seminary. Not that he could promise 
to be chiefly resident there ; much less constantly. 
His duty to his own flock at Madeley, would by no 
means admit of this. But he was to attend as often 
as he conveniently could ; to give advice with regard 
tothe appointment of masters, the admission or exclu- 
sion of students, to oversee their studies and conduct : 
to assist their piety, and judge of their qualifications 
for the work of the ministry. 

8. « As Mr. Fletcher greatly approved of the de- 
sign, especially considering, first, That none were 
to be admitted but such as feared God ; and, second- 
ly, That when they were prepared for it, they might 
enter into the ministry, wherever providence opened 
a door : he readily complied with the invitation, and 



34 



undertook the charge. This he did without fee or 
reward, from the sole motive of being useful in the 
most important work of training up persons for the 
glorious office of preaching the gospel. And some 
months after, with the same view, through his means, 
and in consequence of your recommendation to her 
ladyship, I was made head master of the school, or 
as it was commonly called the college: though I 
could very ill be spared from Kings wood, where I 
had acted in that capacity about four years. 

9. " As yet I was greatly wanted at Kingswood. 
I had likewise a term to keep at Oxford : so that 
I could only pay them a short visit in January, 1 770. 
But in Spring I went to reside there. And for some 
time things went on excellently well. The young 
men were serious, and made a considerable progress 
in learning. And many of them seemed to have a 
talent for preaching. Mr. Fletcher visited them fre- 
quently, and was received as an angel of God. It is 
not possible for me to describe, the veneration in 
which we all held him. Like Elijah in the schools 
of the prophets, he was revered ; he was loved ; he 
was almost adored : and that, not only by every stu- 
dent, but by every member of the family. And in- 
deed he was worthy. Forgive me, my dear Sir, if 
you think I exceed. My heart kindles while I write. 
Here it was that I saw, shall I say, an angel in human 
flesh ? I should not far exceed the truth if I said so. 
But here I saw a descendant of fallen Adam, so fully 
raised above the ruins of the fall, that though by the 
body he was tied clown to earth, yet was his whole 
conversation in heaven ; yet was his Hfe> from day to 



35 



day, hid with Christ in God, Prayer, praise, love 
and zeal, all ardent, elevated above what one would 
think attainable in this state of frailty, were the ele- 
ment in which he himself continually lived. And as 
to others, his one employment was, to call, intreat 
and urge them, to ascend with him to the glorious 
source of being and blessedness. He had leisure com- 
paratively for nothing else. Languages, arts, sci- 
ences, grammar, rhetoric, logic, even divinity itself, 
as it is called, were all laid aside, when he appeared 
in the school-room among the students. His full 
heart would not suffer him to be silent. He must 
speak, and they were readier to hearken to this ser- 
vant and minister of Jesus Christ, than to attend to 
Sallust, Virgil, Cicero, or any Latin or Greek histo- 
rian, poet or philosopher they were reading. And 
they seldom hearkened long, before they were all in 
tears, and every heart catched fire from the flame 
that burnt in his soul. 

10. " These seasons generally terminated in this. 
Being convinced that to be Jilted with the Holy Ghost 
was a better qualification^ for the ministry of the gos- 
pel, than any classical learning, (though that too may 
be useful in its place.) After speaking a while in the 
school-room, he used frequently to say, " As many 
of you as are athirst for this fulness of the spirit, fol- 
low me into my room." On this, many of us have 
instantly followed him, and there continued till noon, 
wrestling like Jacob for the blessing, praying one af- 
ter another, till we could bear to kneel no longer..,; 
This was not done once or twice, but many times. 
And I have sometimes seen him on these occasions, 



36 



once in particular, sojfilled with the love of God, that 
he could contain no more, but cried out, M Oniy God, 
withhold thy hand, or the vessel will burst. 5 * But 
he afterwards told me, he was afraid he had grieved 
the Spirit of God : and that he ought rather to have 
prayed, that the Lord would have enlarged the ves- 
sel, or have suffered it to break, that the soul might 
have no farther bar or interruption to its enjoyment 
of the supreme good." 

[This is certainly a just remark. The proper 
prayer on such an occasion would have been, 

Give me the enlarg'd desire 

And open, Lord, my soul, 
Thy own fulness to require. 

And comprehend the whole I 

Stretch my faith's capacity 
Wider, and yet wider stiH : 

Then with all that is in thee 
My ravish'd spirit fill !] 

11." Such was the ordinary employment of this 
man of God, while he remained at Trevecka. He 
preached the word of life to the students, and family, 
and as many of the neighbours as desired to be pre^ 
sent. He was instant in season, out of season, he r<?- 
firoved, rebuked, exhorted with all long -suffering. He 
was always employed either in discovering some 
important truth, or exhorting to some neglected du- 
ty, or administering some needful comfort, or relat- 
ing some useful anecdote, or making some profitable 



37 



remark or 'observation upon any thing that occurred. 
And his devout soul always burning with love and zeal, 
led him to intermingle prayer with all he said. 
Mean while his manner was so solemn, and at the 
same time so mild and insinuating, that it was hardly 
possible for any who had the happiness of being 
in his company, not to be struck with awe and charm- 
ed with love, as if in the presence of an angel or de- 
parted spirit. Indeed I frequently thought, while at- 
tending to his heavenly discourse and divine spirit, 
that he was so different from, and superior to the 
generality .of mankind, as to look more like Moses or 
Elijah, or some prophet, or apostle come again from 
>the dead, than a mortal man, dwelling in a house of 
£lay. It is true, his weak and long-afflicted body 
proclaimed him to be human. But the graces which 
so eminently filled and adorned his soul, manifested 
him to be divine. And long before his happy spi- 
rit returned to God that gave it, that which was hu- 
man seemed in a great measure to be swallowed up, of 
life. O what a loss did Trevecka sustain i what an 
irreparable loss, when he left it I 

12. « But why then did he leave it? Why did he 
give up an office, for which he was so perfectly well 
qualified ? which he executed so entirely to the sa- 
tisfaction of all the parties with whom he was concern- 
ed, and in which it had pleased God to give so mani- 
fest a blessing to his labours ? Perhaps it would be 
better, in tenderness to some persons, eminent for 
piety and usefulness, to let that matter remain still 
under the veil, which forgiving love has cast over it. 
But if it be thought that justice to his character, and 

D 



36 



to 'the cause which from that time he so warmly es= 
poused and so ably defended, requires some light to 
be cast upon it, it may be the most inoffensive way, 
to do it in his own words 

[It will be proper to observe here, for the better 
understanding of the following letter, that sometime 
before Mr. Fletcher quitted Trevecka, Mr. Benson 
had been discharged from his office there : not for any 
defect of learning or piety, or any fault found with 
his behaviour: but wholly and solely, because he did 
not believe the doctrine of absolute predestination.] 

13. " The following is an exact copy of all that is 
material in a letter he wrote to me, in consequence 
of my dismission from the office I had been in. 

June 7, 1771, 

• c Dear Sib, 

" The same post brought me yours, and two from 
my Lady, and one from Mr. Williams, [the new mas- 
ter.] Those contained no charges, but general ones, 
which with me go for nothing. If the procedure you. 
mention is fact, and your letter is a fair account of the 
transaction and words relative to your discharge, a 
false step has been taken. I write this post to her 
Ladyship on the affair, with all possible plainness. If 
the plan of the college is overthrown, I have nothing 
more to say to it. I will keep to my text, for one : 
I trust I shall ever be a servant of all : the confined 
tool of any one party, I never was, and never will be. 
If the blow that should have been struck at the dead 



59 



spirit ^ is struck (contrary to the granted liberty of sen- 
timent) at dead Arminius, or absent Mr. Wesley. ...If 
a master is turned away without any fault : it is time 
for me to stand up with firmness, or to withdraw. 55 

14. « The following paragraphs are transcribed 
from Mr. Fletcher's letter, to my Lady. 

" Mr. Benson made a very just defence when he 
said, He did hold with me the possibility of salvation 
for all men. If this is what you call Mr. Wesley's 
opinion and Arm onanism, and if every Arminian 
must quit the college, I am actually discharged. For 
in my present view of things, I must hold that sen- 
timentj if I believe that the Bible is true, and that 
God is Love. 

" For my part, I am no party-man. In the Lord 
I am your servant, and that of your every student. 
But I cannot give up the honour oi being connected 
with my old friends, who notwithstanding their fail- 
ings, are entitled to my respect, gratitude, and affec- 
tion. Mr. Wesley shall always be welcome to my 
pulpit, and I shall gladly bear my testimony in his, 
as well as Mr. Whitefield's. If you forbid your stu- 
dents to preach for the one, and offer them to preach 
for the other ; and if a master is discarded for believ- 
ing, that Christ died for all : then prejudice reigns ; 
charity is cruelly wounded; and party-spirit shouts, 
prevails, triumphs. 55 

15. " Two days after, continues Mr. Benson, he 
writes, " I am determined to stand or fall with the lib- 
erty of the college. As I entered it a free place. 



40 



I must quit it the moment it is an harbour for party- 
spirit. 

« This he was soon constrained to do, as appears 
from the following letter, wrote about two monthsafter. 

" My dear friend, 

u On my arrival at the college, I found all very 
quiet, I fear through the enemy's keeping his goods 
in peace. While I preached the next day, I found 
myself as much shackled as ever I was in my life. 
And after private prayer, I concluded I was not in my 
place. The same day I resigned my office to my. 
Lady, and on Wednesday to the students and the 
Lord 

" Mr. Shirley has sent my Lady a copy of part 
of the minutes of the last conference, ( viz. of the 
year 1 770 ) They were called horrible and abom- 
inable. My Lady told me, " She must burn a- 
gainst them rand that whoever did not fully disavow 
them must quit the college." She accordingly or- 
dered the master and ail the students to write their 
sentiments upon them without reserve. I did so : 
explained them according to Mr. Wesley's senti- 
ments : and approved the doctrine, though not cau- 
tiously worded. I concluded by observing, that as, af- 
ter such a step on my part, and such a declaration 
on my Lady's, I could no longer as an honest man 
stay in the college, I took my leave of it : wishing 
my Lady might find a minister to preside over it 
less insufficient than 

JOHN FLETCHER/ 1 



'41 



16. " These were his reasons for resigning his 
charge at Trevecka. As the circular htler now 
went abroad, under the name of Mr. Shirley, inviting 
the clergy of all denominations, to assemble in a bo- 
dy at Bristol, to oppose you and the preachers met in 
conference, and oblige you to revoke, the dreadful here- 
sies contained in thos*e minutes : and as Mr. Fletch- 
er thought the churches throughout Christendom to 
be verging very fast toward Antinomianism : he 
thought the propositions contained in those minutes 
ought rather to be confirmed than revoked And as 
he was now retired to his parish, he had more leisure 
for such a work than before. So after much prayer 
and consideration, he determined to write in defence 
of them. In how able a manner he did this, I need 
not tell any that have read those incomparable wri- 
tings. I know not how to give the character of them 

better than in the words of Dr. D 5 to whom I 

sent Mr. Fletcher's checks, with a recommendatory 
letter. He answered me : 

" Dear Sir, 

" When I first read yours, I must own I suspected 
your friendship for Mr. Fletcher, had made you too 
lavish in your commendation of his writings : and that 
when I came to read them, I should find some abate- 
ments necessary to be made. But now I have read 
them, I am far from thinking you have spoken ex- 
travagantly ; or indeed, that too much can be said in 
commendation of them. I .had not read his first let- 
ter, before I was so charmed with the spirit, as well 
as abilities of the writer, that the gushing tear could ' 
d 2 



42 



not be Jiindered from giving full testimony of my 
heart-felt satisfaction. Perhaps some part of this 
pleasure might arise from finding my own sentiments 
so fully embraced by the author. But sure I am, the 
greatest share of it arose, from finding those bene- 
volent doctrines so firmly established: and that 
with such judgment, clearness, and precision, as are 
seldom, very seldom to be met with. What crowns 
the whole is, the amiable and christian temper, which 
those who will not be convinced, must however ap- 
prove, and wish that their awn doctrines 11 may be 
constantly attended with the same spirit.** 

17. How much good has been occasioned by the 
publication of that circular letter J This was the 
happy occasion of Mr. Fletchers writing those 
" Checks to Antinomianism in which one knows 
not which to admire most, thzjwrity of the language : 
(such as scarce any foreigner wrote before) the 
strength and clearness of the argument : or the mild- 
ness and sweetness of the spirit that breathes through- 
out the whole. Insomuch that I nothing wonder at 
a serious clergyman, who being resolved to live and 
die in his own opinion, when he was pressed to read 
them, replied, " No, I will not read Mr. Fletcher's 
checks : for if I did, I should be of his mind."" 

18. A short extract from another of his letters 
will shew what was his state of mind at this crisis. 
" How much water, saya he, may at last rush out 

from a little opening ? What are our dear L T s 

jealousies come to ? Ah, poor college ! Their con- 
duct, among other reasons, has stirred me up to write 



43 



in defence of the minutes. Me thinks I dreary 
when I reflect, I have wrote controversy ! the last 
subject, I thought I should meddle with. I expect 
to be roughly handled on the account. Lord, pre- 
pare me for every thing thou callestme to ! 

L F. 



chap. v. 

From his leaving Trevecka y to his going to Bristol. 

I . THE frequent journies he took to and from 
Trevecka, while he presided over the college, in all 
weathers, and at all seasons of the year, farther im- 
paired the firmness of his constitution. And in some 
of those journies, he had not only difficulties, but 
dangers likewise to encounter. One day, as he was 
riding over a wooden bridge, just as he got to the 
middle thereof it broke in. The mare's fore-legs 
sunk into the river, but her breast and hinder parts 
were kept up by the bridge. In that position she 
lay, as still as if she had been dead, till he got over her 
neck, and took off his bags, in which were several ma- 
nuscripts, the spoiling of which would have occasion- 
ed him much trouble. He then endeavoured to raise 
her up ; but she would not stir, till he went over the 
other part of the bridge. But no sooner did he set 
his fcot upon the ground, than she began to plunge. 
Immediately the remaining part of the bridge broke 



44 



down, and sunk with her into the river. But pre- 
sently she rose up again, swam out, and came to 
him. 

2. About this time, Mr. Piimoor being desirous 
to see the inside of a coal-pit, Mr. Fletcher went with 
him to the bottom of a sloping pit, which was sup- 
posed to be near a mile under the ground. They re- 
turned out of it without any inconvenience. But the 
next day, while several colliers were there,sa damp 
took fire, which went off with a vast explosion, and 
killed all the men that were in it. 

# 

3. In February, 1773, I received from him the 
following letter : 

u Rev. and Dear Sir, \ 

" I hope the Lord who has so wonderfully stood 
by you hitherto, wiH preserve you to see many of 
your sheep, and me among them, enter into rest.... 
Should Providence call you first, I shall do my best, 
by the Lord's assistance, to help your brother to ga- 
ther the wreck, and keep together those who are not 
absolutely bent to throw away the Methodist doc- 
trines and discipline, as soon as he that now letteth is 
removed out of the way. Every help will then be 
necessary, and I shall not be backward to throw in 
my mite. In the mean time you sometimes need an 
assistant to serve tables, and occasionally to fill up a 
gap. Providence visibly appointed me to that ofiice 
many years ago. And though it no less evidently 
called me hither, yet I have not been without doubt, 



45 



especially for some years past, whether it would not 
be expedient, that I should resume my office as your 
deacon ; not with any view of presiding over the Me- 
thodists after you ; but to ease you a little in your old 
age, and to be in the way of recovering, perhaps do- 
ing more good. I have sometimes thought, how 
shameful it was, that no clergyman should join you, 
to keep in the church the work God has enabled you 
to carry on therein. And as the little estate I have 
in my own country is sufficient for my maintenance, 
I have thought I would one day or other offer you 
and the Methodists my free service. While my love 
of retirement made me linger, I was providentially 
led to do something in lady Huntingdon's plan. But 
being shut out there, it appears, to me, I am again 
called to my first work. Nevertheless I would not 
leave this place, without a fuller persuasion that the 
time is quite come. Not that God uses me much 
here, but I have not yet sufficiently cleared my con- 
science from the blood of all men. Mean time I beg 
the Lord to guide me by his counsel, and make me 
willing to go any where, or no where, to be any thing, 
or nothing. 

M Help by your prayers, till you can bless by 
word of mouth. 

Rev. and dear Sir, 
Your willing, though unprofitable ser- 
vant in the gospel. 

J. F. 

Madclcy^Fcb. 6, 1773, 



46 



4. " Providence, says he, visibly appointed me 
to that office many years ago." Is it any wonder 
then, that he now should be in doubt, whether he did 
right in confining himself to one spot? The more I 
reflect upon it, the more I am convinced, he had 
great reason to doubt this. I can never believe it 
was the will of God, that such a burning and shining 
light should he hid under a bushel. No : instead of 
being confined to a country village, it ought to have 
shone in every corner of our land. He was full as 
much called to sound an alarm through all the na- 
tion as Mr. Whitefield himself. Nay abundantly 
more so : seeing he was far better qualified for that 
important work. He had a more striking person, 
equal good-breeding, an equally winning address : 
together with a richer flow of fancy, a stronger uu- 
der standing : a far greater treasure of learning, both 
in languages, philosophy, philology and divinity : and 
above all, (which i speak with fuller assurance, be- 
cause I had a thorough knowledge bcth of one and 
the other) a more deep and constant communion with 
the Father, and with the Son, Jesus Christ. 

5. And yetletnot any one imagine, that I depre- 
ciate Mr. Whitefield, or undervalue the grace of 
God, and the extraordinary gifts, which his great 
Master vouchsafed unto him. I believe he was high- 
ly favoured of God : yea, that he was one of the most 
eminent ministers, that has appeared in England, or 
perhaps in the world, during the present century.... 
Yet I must own, I have known many fully equal to 
Mr. Whitefield. bcth in holy tempers, and holiness 
of conversation : but one equal herein to Mr. Fletch- 



47 



er, I have not known, no, not in a life of four-score 
years. 

6. However, having chosen, at least for the pre- 
sent, this narrow field of action, he was more and 
more abundant in his ministerial labours, both in pub- 
lic and private ; not contenting himself with preach- 
ing, but visiting his flock in every corner of his pa- 
rish. And this work he attended to, early and late, 
whether the weather was fair or foul ; regarding nei- 
ther heat nor cold, rain nor snow, whether he was 
on horseback or on foot. But this farther weakened 
his constitution ; which was still more effectually 
done, by his intense and uninterrupted studies : in 
which he frequently continued without scarce any in- 
termission, fourteen, fifteen, or sixteen hours a day. 
But still he tud not allow himself such food, as was 
necessary to sustain nature. He seldom took any 
regular meals, except he had company : otherwise 
twice or thrice in four and twenty hours, he ate some 
bread and cheese, or fruit. Instead of this, he some- 
times took a draught of milk, and then wrote on a- 
gain. When one reproved him for not affording 
himself a sufficiency of necessary food, he replied, 
" Not allow myself food 1 Why our food seldom costs 
my house-keeper and me together less than two shil- 
lings a week." 

7. « On the tenth of May, 1774, (says Mr, 
Vaughan, to whom we are indebted for several of the 
preceding anecdotes) he wrote to me thus. u My bro- 
ther has sent me the rent of a little place I have 
abroad, eighty pounds, which I wa3 to receive from 



48 



Mr. Chauvet and company, in London. But in- 
stead of sending the draught for the money, I 
have sent it back to Switzerland, with orders to dis- 
tribute it among the poor. As money is^ rather 
higher there than here, that mite will go farther a- 
broad than it would in my parish." 

8. To shew in how great a degree he was disen- 
gaged from 

" Wealth, honour, pleasure, or what else 
This short-enduring world could give," 

Mr. Vaughan gives us another little memoir, which 
fell within his own knowledge. " After he had pub- 
lished two or three small political pieces, in reference 
to our contest with the Americans, I carried one of 
them (says he in a letter to me) to the Earl of D. 
His Lordship carried them to the Lord Chancellor, and 
the Lord Chancellor handed it to the Xing. One was 
immediately commissioned to ask Mr. Fletcher, 
whether any preferment in the church would be ac- 
ceptable ? Or whether he (the .chancellor). could do 
him any service ? He answered, " I want nothing 
but more grace." 

9. " In 1776, he deposited with nie a bill of one 
hundred and five pounds, being (as I understood) the 
yearly produce of his estate in Switzerland. This 
was his fund for charitable uses : but it lasted only a 
few months, before he drew upon me for the bai- 
lance, whiclv was twenty four pounds, to complete the 
preaching-house in Madeley-Woood." 



1 

49 

. 10. In the same year, his health being more than 
ever impared by a violent cotgh, accompanied with 
spitting of blood (of which I had had large experience 
myself.) Having frequently seen the surprising ef- 
fects of constant exercise,together with change of air: 
X toldhim,nothing was so likely to restore his health as 
a long journey. I therefore proposed his taking a 
journey, of some months?with me, through various 
parts of England and Scotland : telling him, " When 
you are tired, or like it best, you may come into my 
carriage : but remember, that riding on horseback, 
is the best of all exercises for you, so far as your 
strength will permit." He looked upon this, as a call 
from Providence, and very willingly accepted of the 
proposal. We set out (as I am accustomed to do) 
early in the spring, and travelled by moderate jour- 
laies, suited to his strength, which gradually increas- 
ed, eleven or twelve hundred miles. When we re- 
turned to London, in the latter end of the year, he 
was considerably better. And I verily believe, if he 
had travelled with me, partly in the chaise, and part- 
ly on horseback, only a few months longer, he would 
have quite recovered his health. But this, those a- 
bout him would not permit; so being detained in Lon- 
don, by hk kind, but injudicious friends, while I pur- 
sued my journies, his spitting of blood, with all theo- 
ther symptoms returned,and rapidly increased, till the 
physicians pronounced him to be far advanced in a 
true pulmonary consumption. 

11. It being judged quite improper for him to 
remain in London, on Dec. 16, 1776, he retired to 
the house of a friend, Mr. Charles Greenwood (now 
■ 



50 



with God) to Stoke-Newingtcn. Here lie had the ad- 
vice of the most eminent physicians that London 
could afford. He was also in a good air, and had 
ever/ convenience and every help which art could 
bestow. One of the family of whom I enquired con- 
cerning this part o£-his life, gave me the following 
information * 

12. " Agreeably to your desire, I eifrfcavour to 

recollect some particulars of Mr. Fletcher, during 
his abode at Newington. 

" When he first came, he was, by Dr. Fother- 
gill's advice, under the strictest observance of two 
things, rest and silence. These, together with a 
milk diet were supposed to be the only probable 
means of his recovery. In consequence of these di- 
rections, he spoke exceeding little. If ever he spoke 
more than usual, it did not fail to increase his spitting 
of blood; of which indeed lie was seldom quite clear, 
although it was not violent. Therefore a great part 
of his time was spent in being- read to. But it was 
not possible to restrain him altogether from speaking. 
The fire which continually burned in his heart, many 
waters could not quench. It often burst out unawares. 
And then how drd we wonder (like those who for- 
merly heard his Lord) at the gracious words which pro- 
ceeded out of his mouth! He could not have sustained 
life, without sometimes giving vent to his heart. No 
penance could have appeared so severe a cross to him. 
as to be debarred from speaking of, or to God. His 
natural vivacity, with his intense love of Jesus, con- 
tinually impelled him to speak. But on being remirr- 



51 



ded of his rule, with a cheerful smile, he was all sub- 
mission ; consenting by signs only, to stir up those 
about him to pray and praise I 

13. "Whoever has read Mr. Fletcher's last check 
to Antinomianism, and has had the privilege of ob- 
serving his spirit and conduct, will not scruple to say, 
that he was a living comment on his own account of 
christian perfection. It is an alarming word which 
our Lord speaks to the angel of the church of Sardis, 
I have not found thy works perfect before God. But 
as far as man is able to judge, from the whole tenor 
of his behaviour, he did possess perfect humility, per- 
fect resignation, and perfect love, Suitable to this was 
the testimony concerning him, which was given at La- 
dy Huntingdon's chapel at Bristol, even by Mr. V. a 
geatleman strongly attached to those opinions, which 
Mr. Fletcher thought it his duty to oppose. " I have 
enjoyed the privilege of being several "weeks under 
the same roof with dear Mr. Fletcher. And during 
that time I have been greatly edified by his perfect 
resignation to the will of God r and by being a wit- 
ness to his exemplary conduct and uncommon grace." 

14. " When he was able to converse, his favourite 
subject v/as, The firomise of the Father, the gift of the 
Holy Ghost, including that rich peculiar blessing of 
union with the Father and the Son, mentioned in that 
prayer of our Lord, which is recorded in the seven- 
teenth chapter of St. John Many were the sparks 

of living fire, which occasionally darted forth on this 
beloved theme. " We must not be content, said he, 
to be only cleansed from sin: we must be filled with 



52 



the Spirit.' 5 One asking him, What was to be expe* 
rienced, in the full accomplishment of the promise I 
O, said he, what shall I say ! All the sweetness of th^ 
drawings of the Father ; all the love of the Son ; all 
the rick effusions of peace and joy in the Koly Ghost, 
more than ever can be expressed, are comprehendecl 
here ! To attain it, the Spirit maketh intercession in 
the soul, like a God wrestling with a God 1" 

15. " It was in these favoured moments of con- 
verse, that we found in a particular maner, the re- 
ward which, is annexed to the receiving a prophet in. 
the name of a prophet. And in some of these he oc- 
casionally mentioned several circumstances, which 
(as none knew them but himself) would other- 
wise have been buried in everlasting oblivion. 

One of those remarkable passages was, M In the 
beginning, said he, of my spiritual course, I heard the 
voice of God in an articulate, but inexpressibly awful 
sound, go through my soul in those words, If any man 
imllbemy disciple^ let him deny himself He mention- 
ed another peculiar manifestation of a late date, in 
which, said he, I was favoured like Moses, with a su- 
pernatural discovery of the glory of God, in an inef- 
fable converse with him, face to face : so that whe-* 
ther I was then in the body, or out of the body, I canr 
not tell." 

16. " At another time he said, u About the time 
of my entering into the ministry, I one evening wan- 
dered into a wood, musing on the importance of the 
office I was going to undertake. I then began to pouc 



S3 



out my soul in prayer : when such a feeling sense of 
the justice of God fell upon me, and such a sense of 
his displeasure at sin, as absorbed all my powers, and 
filled my soul with the agony of prayer, for poor, lost 
sinners. I continued therein till the dawn of day ; and 
I considered this as designed of God, to impress up- 
on me, more deeply the meaning of those solemn 
words, Therefore knowing the terrors of the Lord, we 
persuade men." 

17. " The blessed state of his soul continually 
manifested itself, by its overflowing good-will to all 
that came in his way. And yet his spirit was so deep- 
ly impressed with those words, Not as though I had 
already attained, that the vehemence of his desire for 
a fuller manifestation of God, seemed sometimes to 
border upon unhappiness. But his ardent soul only- 
felt the full impression of those words of the apostle, 
Forgetting the things that are behind, and reaching forth 
unto those that are before ; I press toward the mark, 
for theorize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus, 

1& " One end of his retiring to Newington was, 
that he might hide himself from company. But this^ 
design was in no wise answered; for company came 
from every side. He was continually visited by high 
and low, and by persons of various denominations : one 
of whom being asked, when he went away, what he 
thought of Mr. Fletcher, said, "I went to see a man 
that had one foot in the grave ; but I found a man 
that had one foot in heaven." Among them that now 
visited him were, several of his beloved and honoured 
E 2 



5*4 



opponents : to whom he confirmed his love (howe- 
ver roughly they had treated him) by the most re- 
spectfiU and affectionate behaviour. But he did not 
give up any part of the truths for which he "had pub- 
licly contended : although some (from whom one 
would have expected better things) did not scruple 
co affirm the contrary. Those of his particular friends 
who visited him here, will not easily forget how he ex- 
hausted his whole soul, in effusions of thankfulness & 
Mrs. Cartwright and Cavendish in particular, with 
his faithful and affectionate friend Mr. Ireland, w r ill 
remember their interviews with him. And those o£ 
the family were almost oppressed by the out-pour- 
ings of his love and gratitude, whenever they shew- 
ed their love and care in the most inconsiderable in- 
stance. Yea so thankful, in proportion would he be> 
to even the meanest servant, 

19. « • It was not without some difficulty, that Mr- 
Ireland at length prevailed upon him to sit for his 
picture. While the limner was drawing the outlines 
of it, he was exhorting both him and all that were 
in the room, not only to get the outlines drawn, but 
the colourings also of the image of Jesus on their 
hearts. He had a very remarkable facility in mak- 
ing allusions of this kind ; in raising spiritual ob- 
servations fro m every accidental circumstance ; in 
turning men's employments, pleasures and pains into . 
means of edification ; this he did, in order to engage 
the attention of the thoughtless, the more deeply to 
fix the attention of the thoughtful ; and to prevent 
;he trifling away of time, in unprofitable conversation. 



And such little incidents as used to pass away unno 
ticedj by almost any other person, acquired from Mr. 
Fletcher's fine imagination, a kind of grace and dig- 
nity. To give an instance. Being ordered to let 
blood, while his blood was- running into the cup, 
he took occasion to expatiate on the precious blood- 
shedding of the Lamb of God. And even when he 
did not speak at all, the seraphic spirit which beam- 
ed from his languid face, during those months o£ 
pain and weakness>was 

a A, lecture silent, yet of sovereign use. 5 * 

20. [But it is necessary to be observed, that this 
facility of raising useful observations from the most 
trifling incidents was one of those peculiarities m 
him, which cannot be proposed to our imitation. In 
him it partly resulted from nature, and w r as partly a 
supernatural gift. But what was becoming and grace- 
ful in Mr. Fletcher^ would be disgustful almost in 
any other.] 

21. « One of thosexwha. visited him at Newing- 
ton, was Mr. William Perronet : a pious, sensible 5 
and amiable young man, who was snatched hence in 
the bloom of youth. He often said, the first sight of 
Mr. Fletcher, fixt aa impression upon his mind, 
which never wore off, till it issued in a real conver- 
sion to God : ever accompanied with a most affection- 
ate regard for the instrument of that happy change. 5 * 

Soon after he left Newington, he wrote the fol-. 1 
lowing letter 



May 28, 1777. 
To my very dear friends and benefactors, Charles and 
Mary Greenwood* 

My prayer shall always be, that the merciful may- 
find mercy, and that the great kindness I have found 
under your quiet roof, may be shewed you every 
where under the canopy of heaven. I think with 
gr eatful joy on the days of calm retreat I have been 
blessed with at Newington, and lament my not hav- 
ing improved better the precious opportunity, of sit- 
ting, Mary like, at the feet of my great Physician. 
May he requite your kind cafe of a dying worm, by 
abundantly caring for you and yours> and making all 
your bed in your sickness! May you enjoy full 
health ! May you hunger and thirst after righteous- 
ness and be abundantly filled therewith ! May you 
sweetly rest in Christ ! May his protection be. as a 
wall of fire round about you, and yours ! May his 
rod and staff comfort you, under all the troubles of 
life, the decays of the body, the assaults of the ene- 
my, and the pangs of death 1 May you stand in the 
clefts of the rock of ages, and be safely sheltered 
there, when all the storms of justice blow around 1 
And may you always have such spiritual and tempo- 
ral helps, friends and comforts, as I have found in 
your pleasing retreat. You have received a poor La- 
zarus, (though his sores were not visible) you have 
had compassion, like the good Samai itan : you have 
admitted me to the enjoyment of your best things I 
And now what can I say ? What but, thanks be to God 
for his unspeakable gift ;and thanks to my dear friends 



57 



for all their favour?. They will, I trust, be found faith- 
fully recorded in my breast, when the great Rewarder 
of them that diligently seek him, will render to every 
man according to his works. And a raised Lazarus 
shall then appear in the gate, to testify of the love of 
Charles and Mary Greenwood, and their godly 
sister !, 

I was a little better : but X now spit blood", more 
than I have done for weeks before. Glory be to God 
for every providence ! His will be done in me, by 
health or sickness, life or death*. All fronv him is, 
and I trust will be, welcome to 

Your obliged pensioner, 

JOHN FLETCHER. 



CHAP. VI. 

From his leaving JYewington, till his return from 
Svjitzerland to Madeley. 

h HE continued with Mr. Greenwood at Mew- 
ington, upwards of fifteen months. The physicians 
then advised him to make a trial of the Hot-wellwa- 
ter, near Bristol. " I was desired by Mr. and Mrs-, 
Ireland, (who took him down in April 1777) says 
Miss Thornton, to bear them company thither, which 



5S 

I willingly did. Indeed I looked upon it as a call from 
God : nor could I desire a greater honour, than ta 
share in the employment of angels, in ministering to 
a distinguished heir of salvation. At Brislington, 
near Bristol, he continued in the same holy, earnest 
course as at Newington. Every day he drank the 
Hot-well water, and it agreed with him well. So 
that he appeared to gather a little strength : though 
not so swiftly as was expected. And all the strength 
which he received, he laid out in labours of love ; for 
the benefit of all those, rich or poor, whom Pro* 
vidence cast in his way. 

2. « Whenever he was in company, it was his 
general method, so far as his strength would admit, 
to pray particularly for every person present. And 
from his habitual prayer, resulted that life and ener- 
gy in his w T ords, which everyone that was blest with 
his society, felt more or less. Now and then likewise 
he adventured to pray in the family. But he was 
not wary enough in this. He more than once, so 
much exerted himself, that he was brought very 
low. As soon as he was well enough to write he 
was intent upon finishing two treatises for the press< 
The plan oLreconciliation^ in particular, lay very near 
his heart, He longed to conclude it before he died, 
which he wished to do, breathing peace to Jerusalem^ 
and pointing out to the children of God, the most 
probable means of effecting it : of uniting together 
in the bonds of peace and love all the true minis- - 
ters and followers of Jesus." 



59 



3. From Bristol he wrote to a friend thus : " I 
thank God, I am not afraid of any evil tidings : my 
heart standeth fast, believing in the Lord : and de- 
siring him to do with me just what pleases him..,* 
With respect to my body, my physician hopes I shall 
<Io well. And so I hope and believe too. For health 
or sickness, life or death, is best when the Lord 
stndg it. 

" I am in hopes of seeing you soon i though my 
friends talk of detaining me, to make a farther trial 
of the waters, I am forbid preaching : but blessed 
be God, I am not forbid by my heavenly physician 
to pray, believe and love. This is a sweet work, 
which heals, strengthens and delights : let us do it, 
till we have recovered our spiritual strength. And 
then, whether we shall be seen on earth or not, it 
will be all alike. 

" Be hearty in the cause of religion. Be either 
hot or cold. It is a fearful thing to be lukewarm, and 
thereby fall into the hands of the living God ! Be 
humbly zealous for your own salvation and for God's 
glory. And forget not to care for each other's sal- 
vation. The case of wicked Cain is very common : 
the practice of many says with that wretch, am I my 
brother's keeper ? O pray God to keep you by his 
mighty power through faith unto salvation. Keep 
yourselves in the love of God, and keep one another, by 
example, reproof, exhortation, encouragement, social 
prayer* and a faithful use of all the means of grace. 
Use yourselves to bow at Christ's feet as your pro- 
phet. Go to him continually for the holy anoint- 



(60 

ing of his Spirit, whp will be a teacher always Rear, 
always with you and in you. If you have that inward 
instructor, you will suffer no material loss, though 
^ our out- ward teachers should be removed, 

" While you have the light of God's word, be- 
lieve in the light, that ye may be the. children of the 
light, fitted for the kingdom of eternal light I Where 
I charge you, prepare to meet with joy 

Your affectionate, though unworthy 
Brother and minister, 

JOHN FLETCHER." 

,4. I subjoin part -of a letter wrote some time be- 
fore in the same spirit to his parishioners at Madeley. 

Dec. 28, 1776. 

« My BEAR PARISHIONERS, 

" The weakness of my body confining me from 
you, I humbly submit to the divine dispensation.... 
And I ease the trouble of my absence from you, by 
being present with you in spirit, and by reflecting on 
the pleasure I have felt in years past, in singing 
with you, Unto us a Child is born ; unto us a Son is 
given. This truth let us receive with all readiness, 
and we shall meet in Christ, the centre of lasting 
union. And our hearts shall be full of the song of 
angels, Glory be unto God in the highest ! On earth 
peace I Good-will toward men ! In order to this, may 
the eyes of your understanding be more and more o- 
pened to see the need of a Redeemer, and to behold 



<51 



the suitableness, frecness, and fulness of the redemp- 
tion, wrought out by the Son of God ! this wish glows 
in my soul so ardently, that it brings me down upon my 
knee*, while I write. And in that posture I intreat 
you all, to consider and improve the day of your vis- 
itation ; and to prepare in good earnest, to meet with 
joy, yoar God and your unworthy pastor in another 
world I Weak as I was when I left you, I hear that 
many, who were then healthy and strong, have got the 
start of ms ; and that some have been hurried into e- 
ternity, without a moment's warning. May this awful 
•event strike a deeper consideration into all our souls 1 
May the sound of their bodies, dashed in pieces at the 
bottom of the pit, rouze us to a speedy conversion, 
that we may never through carelessness or delay, fall 
into the bottomless pit ! Tottering as I stand on the 
brink of the grave, some of you also may drop into it 
before me. Let us all then prepare for our approach- 
ing change, and never rest till we are assured it will 
be a happy one ! Let the long-suffering of God to- 
ward us, who survive the hundreds that I have buri- 
ed, lead us all to repentance ! Embrace Jesus Christ, 
who wept for you in the manger, agonized for you in 
the garden, bled for you on the cross, and now pleads 
for you on his mediatorial throne ! Meet me not at the 
great day in your sins and in your blood ! Meet me 
in the robe of Christ's merits and in the white linen (the 
purity of heart and. life) which is the righteousness of 
the saints { Let all wickedness be gone for e\er with 
Ike old year ! And with th$ new year begin a new 
lUo : a life of renewed devotion to God, md increas- 
ing love to our neighbour ! 



62 



" Though I hope to see much more of the good- 
ness of God in the iand of the living, than I do see, 
yet blessed be the divine mercy, I see enough to keep 
my mind at all times unruffled, and to make me 
calmly willing to resign my soul into the hands of my 
faithful Creator. I desire your public thanks for all 
the favours which he continually sheweth me. May 
our thankfulness crown the new year, as the Lord's 
patience and goodness have renewed our life. Per- 
mit me to beseech an interest in your prayers also. 
Ask that I may be willing to receive all that God is 
willing to bestow. Ask that I may meekly suffer and 
zealously do all the will of God in my present circum- 
stances: and that living or dying I may say, To me 
to live is Christ, and to die is gain. If God calls me 
soon, I beg he may in his good providence, appoint a 
more faithful shepherd over you. You need not fear 
but he will. For these many months you have had 
famine of the word. And what God hath done for 
months, he can do for years ; yea, all the years of your 
life. Only pray. Ask and you shall have. Meet me 
at the throne of grace, and you shall meet me at the 
throne of glory. 

Your affectionate, obliged, 
Unworthy Minister, 

JOHN FLETCHER." 

&s To a friend, meantime, he wrote thus : " With 
respect to my soul, I calmly wait in unshaken resig- 
nation, for the full salvation of God : ready to trust 
him, to venture on his faithful love, and on the sure 
mercies of David, either at midnight, noon-day, or 
cock- crowing. For my time is in his hand ; and 



63 



his time is best, and shall be my time. Death 
has lost his sting, and I ihank God, I know not what 
hurry of spirits is, or unbelieving fears, under the 
most trying circumstances. Thanks be to God for 
his unspeakable gift i" 

6. He now spent part of his time at Bristol, but 
the.greatest part at Brisiington. In one place or the 
other, as well as at Newington, he was visited by ma- 
ny respectable persons. Many of these were Calvin- 
ists ; several of whom bore witness to his deep piety 
and exalted spirit. But a dissenting minister, after 
pressing him hard, with regard to some of his opin- 
ions, told him with great warmth, " Mr. Fletcher, 
you had better have been gasping for life with an asth- 
ma, or have had all your limbs unstrung by a palsy, 
than to have wrote those checks." Mr. Fletcher repli- 
H Sir, I then wanted more love, and I do so still and 
in his highest fervours of divine love, he always ac- 
knowledged his w 7 ant of more. 

7. Here also he missed no opportunity of instiuct- 
ing servants and children, suiting his discourse, in a 
manner peculiar to himself, to their capacity or their 
business. And what would have appeared low in a- 
nother, did not appear so when spoken by him. Thus 
he advised the cook, " To stir up the fire of divine 
love in his heart, that it might burn up all the rubbish 
therein, and raise a flame of holy affection to which 
with the greatest cordiality he would subjoin a short 
prayer. Thus to the housemaid, he said./ 4 I intreat 
you, to sweep every corner of your heart, that it may 
Le fit to receive your heavenly guest." To a poor man 



64 



who came there in a deep consumption, but little con- 
cerned for his soul, he said, in a very solemn manner, 
(laying one hand on his own breast and the other on 
the poor man's) " God has fixed aloud knocker at 
yourbreastand mine. Because we did not regard, as we 
ought to have done, the gentle knocks and calls of his 
Holy Spirit, his word and his providences, he has ta- 
ken fast hold here, and we cannot get out of his hand. 
O let this knocker awaken you, who are just drop- 
ping irita eternal sleep L'* 

8. When one or another cecal sonally mentioned 
any unkind thing, which had been said of him or his 
writings, if the person who said it was named, he 
would stop the speaker immediately, and offer up the 
most fervent prayer, for the person of whom he spoke. 
He did not willingly suffer any one to say anything a- 
gainst his opponents. And he made all the allowan- 
ces for them, which on a change of circumstances, he 
would have wished them to make for him. 

9. He continued at Brislington till the firsi of De- 
cember, 1777. All other means having now been fair- 
ly tried, with very little effect, most of the symptoms 
being nearly the same as they were several months be- 
fore : it w r as determined by the most skilful physicians, 
that nothing could save his life but a sea voyage. 
When this was fixed, Mr. Ireland (a friend indeed !) 
carried him back to Newington. While he was here, 
preparing for his voyage, he wrote as follows to one 
of his flock at Madeley. 

" I heartily thank you for your kind letter. May 
the God of all grace and love, our common Father 



65 



and our all, bless you with all spiritual blessings, and 
with such temporal favours, as will best serve the end 
of your growing in grace. 

" My desire is, if I should be spared to minister 
to you again, to do it with more humility, diligence, 
love and zeal. But as matters are, you must take the 
will for the deed. And let us all praise God for all 
that is past, and trust him for all that's to come ! The 
Lord enable you to cleave to Christ, and in him to 
abide in one mind, striving together for the hope of the 
gospel, the fulness of the Spirit. Of this we have 
often discoursed together: but we have not pressed 
into it with sufficient ardour and violence. God give 
us the humble and violent faith, which inherits the 
promises, that we may always triumph in Christ, in 
life and in death! I beg you would help me to 
thank the Author of all good for every blessing of 
this life : but above all, for the lively hope of the 
next, and for Christ, our common hope, peace, joy, 
wisdom, righteousness and salvation! In him I 
meet and embrace you all ! God bless you, and 
crown you with loving kindness and tender mercies ! 
I live, if you stanch Do not let me want the reviv- 
ing cordial of hearing that you stand together firm 
in the faith, deep in humility, and rejoicing in loving 
hope of the glory to come ! Bless God much for the 
git of his only begotten Son! Be much in private 
prayer. Do not forget the assembling yourselves 
together, in little companies, as well as in public. 
Walk humbly as m the sight of death and eternity. 
And pray still for 

Your unworthy servant, 

r : J, e\ 

F 2 



6o 



'Let none of your little companies want. If 
any do, you are welcome to my house. Take any 
part of the furniture there, and make use of it for 
their relief. And this shall be your full title for so 
doing. 

Witness my hand, 

JOHN FLETCHER. 

10. In the beginning of December he set out with 
Mr. Ireland and his family, beside some other com- 
pany. A little account of the former part of his 
journey, is given by Mr. Ireland, in a letter to a 
friend. 

"We left Calais, December 12. The north 
wind was very high, and penetrated us even in the 
chaise. We put up at Bretzul, and the next day- 
got to Abbeville; whence we were forced by the 
miserable accommodations we met with, to set out, 
though it was Sunday. Mr. Fletcher and I used to 
lead the way : but now the other chaises got before 
us. Nine miles from Abbeville our axletree gave 
way through the hard frost, and we were both left to 
the piercing cold, on the side of a hill, without any 
shelter After waiting an hour and an half we sent 
the axletree and wheels back to be repaired: and 
leaving the body ol the chaise under a guard, pro- 
cured another to carry us to the next town. On the 
15th, our chaise arrived in good repair. Travelling 
steadily forward (though the country was all covered 
nrith snow) cn the 27th we reached Dijon. During 



67 



the whole journey, Mr. Fletcher shewed visible 
marks of a recovery. He bore both the fatigue and 
piercing cold as well as the best of us. On the 3 t st 
we put up at Lyons, and solemnly closed the year* 
bowing our knees before the throne, which indeed 
we did not fail to do, altogether every day. Janu- 
ary 4, 1778, we left Lyons, and came on the ninth 
to Aix. Here we rest : the weather being exceed- 
ing fine and warm. Mr. Fletcher walks out daily. 
He is now able to read, and to pray with us, every 
morning and evening. He has no remains of his 
cough, or of the weakness in his breast. His natu- 
ral colour is restored, and the sallowness quite gone* 
His appetite is good and he takes a little wine." 

11. In another letter, Mr. Ireland writes thus i 
" Soon after our arrival here, I rode out most days 
with my dear and valuable friend. He now and then 
complained of the uneasiness of the horse, and there 
was some remains of soreness in his breast. But this 
soon went oft. The beginning of February was warm, 
which when he walked in the fields, relaxed Jiim too 
much. But when the wind got north or east, l^e 
was braced again. His appetite is good; his com- 
plexion as healthy as it was eleven years ago As 
his strength increases, he increases the length of his 
rides. Last Tuesday he set out on a journey of 
a hundred and twelve miles. The first day he tra- 
velled forty miles, without feeling any fatigue. The 
third day he travelled fifty-five. He bore his jour- 
ney as well as I did : and was as well and as acti ve 
at the end of it, as at the beginning. During the day, 
he cried out "Help me to praise the Lord for his 



68 



goodness: I never expected to see this day." He now 
accepted a pressing invitation to preach to the Pro- 
testants here. He did so on Sunday morning on 
these words, Examine yourselves, whether ye be in the 
faith. For some days before, he was afraid he had 
done wrong, in accepting the invitation. ButO how 
shall I be able to express the power and liberty which 
the Lord gave him! Both the French and English 
were greatly affected: the word went to the heart 
both of saints and sinners. If the Lord continues his 
strength and voice (which is now as good as ever it 
w 7 as) he has an earnest invitation to preach where we 
are going, near Montpelier. You would be aston- 
ished at the intrqaties of pastors as well as people. 
He has received a letter from a minister in the Le- 
vine mountains, who intends to come to Montpelier, 
sixty miles, to press him to go and preach to his 
flock. Soon after this, his brother carne to fetch him 
to Switzerland. He purposes to spend the next sum- 
mer in his own country, and the following winter in 
these parts, or in some part of the south of France. 

12 " His brother conducted him from Montpe- 
lier to Nyon, the place of his nativity. Flere he lived 
in that which was his father's house, in the midst of 
his affectionate relations, who took care that he 
should neither want the best advice, perhaps equal 
to any in Europe, nor any thii% that ccukl possibly 
contribute to the full recovery of his health. " 

13. About this time a letter was wrote to that 
venerable old man, Mr. Pcrronet, vicar of Shore- 
ham, informing him, that there was a valuable 



69 



estate in his native place, which properly belonged 
to him, and which might easily be recovered, if he 
sent one of his sons to claim it. All his friends 
whom he consulted on the occasion, judged this infor- 
mation was not to be slighted. And his youngest 
son, Mr. William Perronet, was willing to under- 
take the journey. But before he set out, he wrote 
to Mr. Fletcher, desiring his advice. Part of his 
answer was as follows : 

Nyon) June 2, 17T8, 

" While I write to you to make your title clear 
to a precarious estate on earth ; permit me to remind 
you of the heavenly inheritance entailed upon believ- 
ers. The will (the New Testament) by which we 
can recover it, is proved: the court is equitable, the 
Judge loving and gracious. To enter on the posses- 
sion of part of the estate here, and of the whole here- 
after, we neod only to believe, and prove evangelically, 
that we are believers. Let us set about it notv with 
earnestness, with perseverance, and with full assu- 
rance, that through grace we shall carry our point. 
Alas, what are estates or crowns, to grace and glory ? 
The Lord grant we may ail choose the better part ! 

« Since I wrote last, in order to shorten my jour- 
ney, I ventured to cross the mountains which sepa- 
rate France from this country. But on the third day, 
I found an unexpected trial ; a hill, which we were 
to ascend by a winding road, but so steep, that the 
horses were hardly able to draw the empty chaise. 



70 



This obliged me to walk in the steepest places, for 
several hours together. The sun was hot. I per- 
spired violently, and the next day I spat blood again. 
But having kept to asses' milk ever since,J am (bless- 
ed be God) much better. 

" This country is delightful. I invite you to 
come and see it, and share a delightful apartment. 
I design to try this fine air some months longer, 
We have a fine shady wood, near the lake, where I 
can ride in the cool ail the clay, and enjoy the sing- 
ing of a multitude of birds. But this, though sweet, 
does not come up to the singing of my dear friends in 
England. There I met them in spirit several hours 
in the day. God bless my dear friends !" 

14. About the same time he wrote to Dr. Tur- 
ner as follows: 

u Should I gather strength, I should under God, 
acknowledge you> dear Sir, as the instrument of that 
blessing, as you were above twenty years ago. Ten 
thousand thanks I render to you, Sir, and to Mr. 
Perronet for your kind and generous care and attend- 
ance. May God reward you both, by bestowing 
upon you all the blessings which can make life hap- 
py, death comfortable, and eternity delightful and 
glorious ! May the richest cordials of divine love, 
and the balm of Gilead, a Saviour's precious blood, 
revive your souls and comfort your hearts! And in 
your every want and extremity, may you both find 



71 

such tender helpers and comforters, as have been 
found in you by, dear Sir, 

Your most obliged, though most 
unworthy servant and patient, 

JOHN FLETCHER,' 5 

15. In the latter end of the year, Mr. William 
Perronet set out for Switzerland. In a letter he wrote 
from thence to Mr. Greenwood, he gives a little far- 
ther account of Mr. Fletcher. And this letter I the 
rather insert, as I believe it is all that remains of that 
amiable young man, who never more saw his native 
land, being called hence, while he was on his journey 
to England. 

There is something in the beginning of his letter 5 
which is a little humorous : but this the candid rea- 
der will easily excuse. It runs thus : 

N YON, Jan. 18, 1779. 

" Dear Sir, 

" As you desire of me to send you some account 
of my journey, now I am a little settled, I will do it 
in the best manner I am able. 

¥ I set out from London, on Tuesday, November the 
seventeenth. We arrived at Dover about three on 
Wednesday morning ; embarked on Thursday, and ar- 
rived at Calais ? in about three hours. 



72 



41 Though it was in war-time, yet we did not meet 
with the least incivility, either here or in any part of 
France. But the badness of the Inns makes the tra- 
velling through this country disagreeable. The rooms 
in general so dirty, as to be fitter for swine than men. 
Each room both above and below stairs, is provided 
with two, three, or four beds. And they are so high 
as to require steps to get up to them. For there is on 
each bed, first, a monstrous canvass bag, stuffed with 
a huge quantity of straw : over this a feather bed, and 
on this as many mattresses as the host can furnish. 
But the worst is, the sheets are not damp, but rather 
downright wet. Yet the good woman would con- 
stantly scold us, if we attempted to dry them even at 
our own fire : insisting upon it, that it was impossi- 
ble, they should be damp at all. 

" At table, every one is furnished with a spoon, 
and a fork, but with no knives. And in general they 
are not needful : for both flesh and vegetables are so 
stewed down, as to be properly termed spoon- meet. 
However at the meanest Inn, every one is provided 
with a clean napkin : and both after dinner and sup- 
per, there is a fine desert of fruit. 

" We travelled early and late : yet having but 
one set of horses, we were a whole week in getting 
toPaiis. In Paris all is gaiety and finery ; but with- 
out the least idea of neatness. The scarcity of wa- 
ter is one excuse for the general want of cleanliness, 
both in their persons and houses. 

" On Tuesday, Bee. 8, we dined at Fortallier ; 
the prettiest town in all France. The reason of 



which is, being burnt down some years ago, it was 
rebuilt by the late king. The next morning we en- 
tered Switzerland, stepping over a brook, which di- 
vides Switzerland from France. On the French side 
of the brook is a cross : on the other, a pillar with the 
arms of Switzerland. In the evening, we arrived at 
Lausanne, a famous old town. Here I remained the 
next day, and on Friday, the eleventh, went on to Ny« 
on, where I had the pleasure of finding our dear friend* 
in pretty good health and spirits. Mr. Fletcher's 
house is a fine large building, agreeably situated. It 
is in the form of a castle, and is supposed to have 
been built five hundred years ago. 

" In passing through France, how bitterly did I 
regret the want of the Sunday-service ? And it was not 
much better with me when I came into Switzerland. 
For I understood so little of their language, that I 
could not profit much by the public service. Indeed 
this loss is m some measure made up by the compa- 
ny and conversation of Mr. Fletcher : who, however 
engaged he is the greater part of the day, is general- 
ly so kind, as to spend a little time with me in the 
evening, in prayer and conversation. 

" His Ghief delight seems to be in the meeting of his 
little Jfcfciety of children. And as he is exceeding 
fond of them, they appear to be altogether as fond cf 
him. He seldom either walks abroad or rides out, but 
•some of them follow him : singing the hymns they 
have learned, and. conversing with him by the way a 
But you must not suppose, that he is permitted to en- 
joy this happiness unmolested. Not only the drunk- 



74 



ards make songs upon him, and his little companions, 
but many of the clergy loudly complain of such ir- 
regular proceedings. However he is upon good 
terms with the three ministers of the place : all of 
whom are not only serious men, but desirous of pro- 
moting true religion. 

" lie is certainly stronger, and in better health, than 
he was when he left England. But as soon as ever 
he ventures to preach, his spitting of blood returns. 
Whenever this happens, his strength and spirits de- 
cay surprisingly, which he cannot in any wise reco- 
ver, but by lying for some days. 

" Whether I succeed in my temporal business or 
not, I shall ever remember with pleasure and thank- 
fulness the opportunities I have been blest with of 
spending so much time in company with our inesti- 
mable friend : who, wherever he goes, preaches the 
gospel, both by his words and example ; nay, by his 
very looks, not only to his friends, but to all he meets 
with* So that on the top of the frozen Alps, and in 
the dreary vale of Chateau d'Oex, some good seed 
has been sown. 

" When my (business constrained me to go to 
Chateau d'Oex, Mr. Fletcher bore me company. 
And here also he was visited by some of the 'princi- 
pal inhabitants of the town : who stood round him in 
deep attention for almost an hour, while he both ex- 
horted and prayed. 

I am, dear Sir, 
Your very sincere friend and servant, 

WILLIAM PERRONET." 



16, Mr. Fletcher adds upon the same paper. 
" Thanks to our kind preserver, I am yet in the land 
of fait a and hope, and want to find and make it a land 
of happiness and love. The Lord Jesu:, is alone suf- 
ficient for this, and till the great out- pouring of his 
love is come, we ought faithfully to stir up the gift of 
God, which is in ourselves and others, and to supply 
by the depth of our humility, and the ardour of our 
expectation, what is yet wanting to our experience. 
Well : God is good : Jesus is faithful : the Spirit is 
truth and love. Come Lord 1 And we shall experi- 
ence the power of that God, who turns death to life, 
darkness to light, weakness to strength ; and calltih 
the things that arc not as though they %vere. 

17. Mr. Perronet in another letter to Mr. Green- 
wood, dated May 22, writes thus: 

" My dear friend is much better in health now, 
than he was in the winter. He preached last Sun- 
day sennight in the church. He spoke with a strong, 
clear voice, for above three quarters of an hour: and 
did not find himself hurt by it. But when he rode 
out in the afternoon, his horse dropped clown, as if he 
had been shot, and cut both his knees, as well as his 
head. Yet Mr. Fletcher was no 'way hurt. 

u On Good-Friday, there being no service here, 
Mr. Fletcher and 1 crossed the lake into Savoy, in 
order to hear a celebrated capuchin, who was ta 
preach that day. He made a very good discourse : 
and afterwards he and his brethren, invited us to dine 
With them. This we declined ; but after dinner paid 



To 



our respects to them. And we spent two or three a- 
greeable hours, in serious and friendly conversation.'* 

18. About this time Mr. Fletcher wtote to a 
friend thus : 

" Let tjfls bear with .patience the decays of nature : 
let us see without fear the approach of death. We 
must put off this sickly-, corruptible body, in order to 
put on the immortal and glorious garment. 

I have some hopes that my poor sister, will yet 
be my sister in Christ. Her self-righteousness, I 
trust, breaks as fast as her body. I am come hither 
to see death make havcck among my friends. I wear 
mourning for my father's brother, and for my brother's 
son. The same mourning will serve me for my dying 
sister, if I do not go before her. She lies on the 
same bed where my father and mother died, and 
where she and I were born. How near is life to 
death ! But blessed be God ! Christ the resurrec- 
tion is nearer to the weak, dying believer ! Death 
■works through the body, and the resurrection thro* 
the soul. And our soul is our real self.'* 

19. I believe it was about the same time, that a 
remarkable passage occurred, which was related to 
me some years ago. I may possibly have forgot 
some circumstances : but the substance of it was 
this. Mr. Fletcher having heard of a minister in 
the country, as an eminently pious man, had a great 
desire to see him, and for that purpose, one morning" 
sft out very early. When he had walked several 



m 

miles, he saw a great crowd gathered together at the 
door of a house. He asked, What was the matter ? 
And was answered, " A poor woman and her child 
lay a dying." He went in, and found a woman who 
had not long been delivered, in appearance very near 
death. Little better was the case of the infant, which 
was convulsed from head to foot. The room was 
filled with people, He took occasion to shew them 
from that melancholy spectacle, the dreadful effects 
of sin : and afterwards spoke largely, of the misera- 
ble state we are all In, through the sin of our first 
parent. He then expatiated on the second Adam, 
and the blessings we may receive through him : add- 
ing, He is able to raise the dead ! He is able to save 
you from all sin, as well as save these poor objects 
from death. Come, let us ask him, to save both us 
and them. He found remarkable liberty in prayer. 
Presently the child's convulsions ceased ; and the 
mother was easy, lively and strong. The people 
were utterly amased, and stood speechless and al- 
most senseless ! While they were in this state he si- 
lently withdrew. When they came to themselves, 
he was gone. Many of them asked, " Who it could 
be I" and some said, certainly it was an angel." 

20. When he had a little recovered his strength, 
he made a tour through Italy, and paid a visit to 
Rome. While he was here, as Mr. Ireland and he 
were one day going through one of the streets in a 
coach, they were informed, " The pope was coming 
forward, and it would be required of them to come 
out of the coach, and kneel while .he went by, r.s all 
the people did ; if they did not, in all probability the 
I i o 2 



re 



zealous- mob would fall upon them and knock them 
on the head.'"' But this, whatever might be the con- 
sequence, they flatly refused to do ; judging the pay- 
ing such honour to a man, was neither better nor 
worse than idolatry. The coachman was exceeding- 
ly terrified, not knowing what to do. However, at 
length he made a shift to turn aside into a narrow 
way. The pope was in an open Landau. He wav- 
ed his hands as if he had been swimming ; and fre- 
quently repeated these words, " God bless you all !" 
Mr. Fletcher's spirit was greatly stirred, and he 
longed to bear a public testimony against antichrist. 
And he would undoubtedly have done it, had he been 
able to speak Italian. He could hardly refrain from 
doing it in Latin, till he considered thafconly the 
priests could have understood him. One to whom 
he related this, saying, " If he had done this, the 
multitude would have torn him in pieces he an- 
swered, " I believe the pope himself would have pre- 
vented ; for he was a man of sense and humanity/* 

21. While he was at Paris, he was desired to 
v&it and pray with a sick woman. Information of 
this was quickly given to a magistrate, with abun- 
dance of aggravation. In consequence of this, an 
order was procured from the king himself for the ap- 
prehending him. This might not improbably have 
cost him his life, or at least, a long and expensive 
imprisonment. When the officer came to the door 
of the house where he lodged, Mr. Ireland stepped 
out and said, u Sir, have you a warrant for me V* He 
(: apposing him to be Mr. Fletcher) answered, " I 
Lave \ you must come with me." Mr. Ireland went 



very quietly with him. But when they came before 
the magistrate, the accuser said, u This is not the 
man : I know nothing of this gentleman.'' Another 
messenger was then sent \ but before he came to the 
house, Mr. Fletcher was too far off to be overtaken. 

i 

22. While he was at Nyon, he wrote ^( among 
many other letters) to good, old Mr. Perronet as fol- 
lows : 

Feb. 8, 1779, 

" Honoured and Dear Father in Christ, 

i4 ' I have had the pleasure of accompanying your 
son to your father's birth-place. It is a charming 
country lor those who have a taste for highland pros- 
pects. But what is it to our heavenly Father's hill 
of Sion ? Thither may we all travel, summer and 
winter, and there may we all have a happy meeting.; 
and an eternal inheritance." 

28. Sept. 7. Mr. Willam Perronet wrote a little 
farther account of him. " Mr. Fletcher, says he, has 
preached here (at Nyon) in the church, and might 
have preached much oftener, if his health would have 
permitted ; for his friendly and prudent behaviour 
has won upon all the three ministers, so that they 
are now on the best terms with him. But anew diffi- 
culty has lately arisen. He has been summoned be- 
fore the Seigneur Bailiff, who sharply reprehended 
him (noble Bailiff indeed ! worthy of his omce !) for 
preaching against sabbath-breaking, which he said, 
implied a censure of the magistrates, as if they neglect- 



so 



ed their duty. He reprimanded \*Am also for preach- 
ing against stage-plays, which he considered as a re- 
flection on himself, as he had just then sent for a 
company of French commedians to Nyon. In con- 
sequence of this, he forbid his exercising the function 
of a minister in this country, A blessed instance of 
Religious Liberty 1 Who would not wish for the same 
in England! However one of the ministers has ventur- 
ed to give him a room in his own house. Here he 
preaches two or three times a week, to a few serious 
persons and abundance of children. His Lordship 
has not yet thought proper to interfere, although the 
thing is no secret. And not only the seriousness, but: 
a;so the number of the congregation increases daily.' 3 

24. In the next year, 1780, Mr. Fletcher fully in- 
tended to return to England. But not long after, he 
wrote as follows to one of his parishoners at Madeley, 

a 1 have the more readily complied with the re- 
quest of my friends, to stay here [at Nyon] a little 
longer as it was so earnestly backed by the little soci- 
ety, which is gathered in this piace. About three 
weeks ago, they got about me, and besought me on 
their knees, with many tears, to stay till they were a 
little stronger, and able to stand alone* Nor w r ould 
they be persuaded to rise, till they had got me to com- 
ply. Happy would it be for us all, if we prayed so 
earnestly to Him, who can give substantial blessings t 

« Two days ago I went to Geneva, and spoke to a 
carrier, to take me back to London. But his coach 
was full. Yesterday another came, and said, he 



81 



-would take us at a fortnight's notice. The Lord is 
always ready to give us a lift to the kingdom of 
grace, through which we must pass to the kingdom 
of glory. The comforts of this journey is, that we 
may travel all together, though our bodies are far 
asunder. For Christ the way, is every where, and 
faith is (like his word) one and the same in every age 
and place. So is holiness: for in all places we may 
love God with all our heart, and our neighbours as 
ourselves, I hope you, and all your brethren travel 
thus: aixl that you journey like St. Paul, who 
travelled so hard, that he was running a race^ for a 
prize, a crown of life," 

25. In Spring, 1781, he set out for England. 
But Mr. Perronet was then exceeding ill, having all 
the symptoms of an approaching consumption. He 
could not therefore keep pace with Mr. Fletcher : 
who being on his journey wrote to him as follows : 

Lyons, April 6, -1.78 1, 

" My dear Friend, 

" W e are both weak, and both affiicted : but Je- 
sus careth for us. He is every where. He has all 
power to deliver us : and perhaps by ways we little 
think of. It was of the Lord, that you did not come 
with me : you would have been sick, W I am. l am 
overdone with reading and preaching : indeed twice 
I preached in the fields. I carry home with me 
much weakness : the Lord's will be done. I know 
I am called to suffer and die. Let us believe and re- 
joice in the Lord Jesus i" 



32 



He returned to England in summer in tolerable 
good health, being quite recovered from his con- 
sumption. Calling at London, he preached at the. 
New Chapel, slept at Newingion. and the next day 
set out for Bristol. He stayed there only a short 
time, and then retired to Mr. Ireland's, at Brisling- 
ton : who as soon as he was capable, willingly accom- 
panied him to his beloved Madeley. 

26. But he did not find such cause of rejoicing 
here, as he had fondly expected. This may be easily 
gathered, from the letter he then wrote, to his friend 
at Ne wing ton. It runs thus : 

Madeley , June 12, 1731. 
" My YEiiY bsarPkiend, 

" I stayed longer at Brislington than I designed. 
Sir. Ireland was ill, and would nevertheless come 
hither with me : so that I was obliged to stay till he 
was better. And indeed it was well that I did not 
come without him : for he has helped me to regu- 
late my out-ward affairs, which were in great confu- 
sion. Mr. Greaves leaves me : and I will either leave 
Madeley, or have an assistant able to stir among the 
people : for I had much rather be gone than stay 
here, to see the dead bury their dead. Well, we shall 
soon remove out of all, and rest from our little cares 
and labours. You do not forget, I hope, that you have 
need of patience, as well as I, to inherit the promises, 
the best and greatest of which are not sealed, but to 
such as keep the word of Christ's patience, and such 
as persevere with him in his temptations. Hold on 



83 



then, patient faith and joyful hope ! If I were by you 
I -would preach to your heart and ray own, a lecture 
©n this textj We are saved by hofir, and by a faith 
which is never stronger than when it is contrary to all 
the feelings of fie sh and blood. 

" Pray what news of the glory ? Does the glory of 
the Lord fill the temple, your house, your heart? A 
cloud is over my poor parish : but alas ! It is not the 
luminous cloud by day, nor the pillar of fire by night. 
Even the few remaining professors stared at me the 
other day, when I preached to them on these words* 
Ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost ; for the firo- 
mise is unto you. Well, the promise is unto us ; if 
others despise it, still let us believe and hope. No- 
thing enlarges the heart, and awakens the soul more, 
than that believing, loving expectation. Let us wait 
together, until we are all endued with power from * 
on high\" 



CHAP. VII. 

Of his Marriage* 

1. ALTHOUGH the great Apostle has ranked 
the forbidding to rnarry among the doctrine of devils f 
and has expressly declared, Marriage is honourable to 
all men, and the bed undefled : yet a kind of prejudice 



84 



hangs on the minds of many even of those that love 
God, inclining them to disapprove of the marriage 
of persons eminent in religion. Yea, many are of 
opinion that it is not consistent with high degrees of 
holiness: and that when a»y who have deep experi- 
ence in the things of God marry, they are in some 
measure fallen from grace. Hence many were sur- 
prized, that so eminent a christian as Mr. Fletcher 
should take this step. And they could hardly help 
thinking, that he had lost some degree of his excel- 
lent piety, and that he was not so unreservedly devo- 
ted to God as he had been some time before. 

2. In order to satisfy every reasonable person, that 
he had not sustained any loss at all, that his entire 
self devotion was in nowise impaired, either be- 
fore, or at the time of his marriage, I believe the 
most convincing way will be, to give as particular an 
account as possible of what occurred at that time. 
The account is given by one that was an eye and ear 
witness of what she relates ; and whoever seriously 
considers this account Will easily perceive, that his 
soul was at that time all alive, and wholly devoted to 
God. And I cannot but recommend this whole 
transaction, to the imitation of all christians who en- 
ter the holy state of matrimony. 

3. As T think i| highly expedient to premise 
some account of the person whom Mr. Fletcher 
chose as his companion for life, I am glad to find this 
done to my hand, in a letter which I shall now sub- 
join : 



85 - 

Rev. Sir, 

" I think it my privilege, and have often found it a 
blessing, to comply with the request of my honoured 
father, which I now do also in great love to my valu- 
able and much esteemed friends, Mr. and Mrs. Fletch- 
er. I will therefore endeavour, w T ith the assistance 
of my gracious Lord, to recollect and acquaint you 
with some particulars of the life and character of 
these truly devoted servants of God, with whose in- 
timate acquaintance I have been favoured for near 
thirty years. But indeed I feel my great insuffici- 
ency to relate what might be said with the strictest 
truth of these worthies. 

" My acquaintance with Mrs. Fletcher began 
when she was about seventeen years of age. She 
had from her early childhood been strongly drawn 
to seek the crucified Saviour, and was now athirst 
for a clean heart, and longed to have a right spirit 
renewed within her. Nor did her desire to love God 
with all her heart, lessen, but increase, her love to 
her neighbour : as I, the most unworthy, am well able- 
to testify, to whom she has been a tried friend, even 
to the present hour. 

" To give you a clear view of this, I need only 
transcribe part of a letter, which she wrote to me, 
May 23, 1757. 

tc My dearest friend, 

" The Lord has been indeed merciful, above all 
we can ask or tjiink. I found a greater blessing the 
it 



86 



last time I was with you than ever. I am more en- 
abled to prayer, and to an earnest seeking after holi- 
ness. But what most stirs me up is, I seem to hear 
the Lord calling upon me, " Depart ye, depart ye : go 
ye out thence : touch not the unclean thing : be ye 
clear,) that bear the vessels of the Lord." For some- 
time these words have been much in my mind, with 
both pleasure and profit. But within this day or 
two, the Lord has more clearly shewn me the way 
wherein I ought to walk. He seems to call me out 
to more activeness ; so that I am ready to cry out, 
" What wouldstthou have me to do?" Then I con- 
sider, can I do any more for the souls or bodies of 
the poor about me ? But this does not seem to be the 
thing. What I am now led to wish for is, with both 
soul and body to serve those who are in Christ. And 
as soon as the Lord has prepared me for his work, 
and set me at liberty, my firm resolution is, by the 
grace of God, to be wholly given up to the church, 
I plainly see, I have no more to do with the world, 
than to allow myself the necessaries of life. And 
though it has pleased God that I have no need to 
work for my living, yet surely that is no reason my 
"hand should be idle. I would be like those described. 
1 Tim. v. 10. To bring up, children, to lodge stran- 
gers, to be ready to do the meanest offices for the 
saints : to retieve the afflicted, to xnsit the fatherless 
and widow, and diligently to follow every good work. 
O pray for me that the Lord may shorten his work in 
me, and quickly make an end of sin I O that he would 
sav to my soul, Thou art all fair, my love I There is no 
spot in thee. O when shall I be wholly given up, both 
body and soul, to him who gave himself for me." 



" I admired the spirit of this letter: but little ex- 
pected to see these good desires brought so fully into 
practice, as they were in a few years after. And 
this may suffice as a clear proof, that God fulfils the 
desires of them that fear him ; yea, and shews unto 
them the path, wherein he would have them to walk. 
That her light given before was not delusive, is plain ; 
as it is well known, how many years, she brought 
up children, lodged strangers* relieved the afflicted, and 
diligently followed every good work. 

" With regard to the dear saint, that is now swal- 
lowed up in his beloved employment, praise and ado- 
ration, it is eight or nine and twenty years, since I was 
first favoured with his heavenly conversation, in com- 
pany with Mr. Walsh and a few other friends, most 
of whom are now in the world of spirits. At these 
seasons how frequently did we feel 

" The o'erwhelming power of saving grace I" 

How frequently were we silenced thereby, while tears 
of love, our eyes overflowed ! It sweetly affects my 
soul while I recollect the humility, fervour of spirit 
and strength of faith, with which dear Mr. Fletcher 
so often poured out his soul, before the Great Three 
One, at whose feet we have lain in holy shame and 
divine silence, till it seemed earth was turned to hea- 
ven! With what delight does my soul recall those 
precious moments ! Yet a little while, and we shall all 
magnify his name together. 

" This heavenly -minded servant of the Lord re- 
sembled him likewise in his love to precious souls. 



S3 



I beard him preach his first senr.cn at West-Street. 
Chapel. I think his text was, Reficntfor (he kingdom 
of heaven is at hand. His spirit appeared in his whole 
attitude and action, though he could not well find 
Words in the English language to express himself : 
but he supplied that defect, by offering up prayers, 
tears and sighs abundantly. Nearly about this time 
he saw Miss Bosanqutt, and began his acquaintance 
with her. But although they had a particular esteem 
for each other, yet they had no correspondence for a- 
bove twenty years. It was not till the yearly con- 
ference drew near, in July 1781, that he paid her a 
visit at her own house near Leeds. They had much 
conversation together, and contracted an intimate ac- 
quaintance. After a few days, Miss Bosanquet asked 
Mr. Wesley's advice concerning Mr. Fletcher's pro- 
posal, who approved it entirely, being, persuaded, it 
would be much to the glory of God. He spent much 
of his time at Cross-hall, till the following January. 
His general conversation was praising Cod, and 
speaking of the love of our dear Redeemer. He took 
opportunities likewise of speaking to every one in the 
family, concerning the state of their souls, and giving 
them from time to time such directions as were suit- 
able thereto. At other times, he met us all together, 
and gave us proper exhortations and directions. Our 
daily meals were as a sacrament ; when he drank to 
any one it was, " Heavenly health," or, " The cup of 
salvation. " At or after the meal, he generally begins 
or called us to begin that verse, 

M Still, O my soul prolong 
The never-ceasing song 1 



69 



Christ my theme, my hope, my joy, 

His be all my happy days i 
Praise my every hour employ : 
Every breath be spent in praise I" 

After dinner he often sung several verses of The hymn 
called Primitive Christianity : particularly those lines, 

« O that my Lord would count me meet, # 
To wash his dear disciples' feet 1" 

Sometimes he read many of those verses with tears 
streaming down his face. Thus did he walk with 
God, filled with the Spirit of his beloved Lord y con- 
firming his love to all the family, and caring both for 
their spiritual and temporal concerns." 

" My soul was much affected, when he asked 
each of us, in a sweet, humble manner, Can you give 
me your friend ? To think of parting was indeed griev- 
ous to us all. Yet we did not dare to withhold her 
from him: as we all believed the union was of God, 
and would be to their present and eternal benefit, 
The first sermon which he preached in Leeds, on the 
Sunday morning before the conference, will never be 
forgotten by any that heard it, who desire to be per- 
fected in love. He preached in many places while 
in Yorkshire, and to numerous congregations. I have 
heard of many who were'greatly blest thereby : some 
convinced, others set at liberty. And whenever he 
either preached or conversed, the comforts of the 
Holy Ghost were multiplied. 



DO 



" Monday, November 12, was the day appointed 
for the outward uniting of those, whose hearts were 
before united by the Holy Spirit. On the morning of 
ihis day, several friends met together on this solemn 
occasion : who can all, as well as I, truly say, we have 
been at one Christian wedding, Jesus was invited, 
and truly he was at our Cana. We reached Cross- 
hall before family prayers Mr. Fletcher was dres- 
sed in his canonicals : and after giving out one of 
Mr. Wesley's marriage hymns, he read the seventh, 
eighth, and ninth verses of the nineteenth chapter of 
the Revelation : and spoke from them in such a 
manner, as greatly tended to spiritualize the so- 
lemnities of the day. He said, " We invite 
you to our wedding : but the Holy Ghost here in- 
vites you to the marriage of the Lamb. The bride^ 
the Lamb's wife, has made herself ready. This bride 
consists in the whole church triumphant and militant 
■united together. Ye may all be the bride, and Jesus 
will condescend to be the bridegroom. Make your- 
self leady by being filled with the Spirit." He was 
very solemn in prayer, and said, " Lord, thou knowest 
we would not take this step, if we had net eternity in 
view, and if we were not as willing to be carried into 
the church-yard, as to go into the church. At break- 
fast he reminded us, the postilions are now ready to 
carry us to the church, in order to see cur nuptials 
solemnized ; but death will soon be here, to trans- 
port us to the marriage of the lamb. 

« On the way to the church (Batley church* 
which was near two miles cff)he spoke much of the. 
mystery which is couched under marriage, namely 



91 



the union between Christ and his church. « The 
first Adam, said he, received his wife from his side ; 
our heavenly Adam purchased his bride, by a foun- 
tain opened in his pierced side. They were married in 
the face of the congregation ; the doors w r ere opened, 
and every one came in that would. We then returned 
home, and spent a considerable time in singing and 
prayer. We were near twenty of us. I then pre- 
sented Mrs. Fletcher with some wedding hymns.... 
She looked them over, and gave them to Mr. Fletch- 
er. He read the scripture at the top, namely, Hus- 
bands love your wives : and added, As ChrLt loved the 
church. Then turning to us, he said, My God what 
a task ! Flelp me, my friends, by your prayers to ful- 
fil it. As Christ loved the Church ! He laid aside 
his glory for her ! He submitted to be born into our 
world ; to be clothed with a human body, subject to 
all our sinless infirmities. He endured shame, con- 
tempt, pain, yea, death itself r , for his church ! O my 
God, none is able to fulfil this task, without thine al- 
mighty aid. Help me, O my God ! Pray for me, 
O my friends i 

a He next read, Wives submit yourselves to your 
own husbands. Mrs. Fletcher added, As unto the 
Lord. Well, my dear, returned Mr Fletcher, Only 
in the Lord. And if ever I wish you to do any thing 
otherwise, resist me with all v our might. From din- 
ner, which was a spirituaj meal, as well as a natural 
one, until tea-time, our time was chiefly spent in fer- 
vent prayer or singing. After singing the covenant 
hymn, Mr. Fletcher went to Mrs. Fletcher, and said 
to her, " Well my dearest friend, will you join with 



92 



me in joining "ourselves in a perpetual covenant to 
the Lord ? Will you with me serve him in his mem- 
bers ? Will you help me to bring souls to the blessed 
Redeemer ? And in every possible way this day, lay 
yourself under the strongest ties you can, to help 
me to glorify my gracious Lord?'' She answered, 
like one that well knew where her strength lay, " May 
my God help me so to do l H 

" In the evening, Mr. Valton preached in the 
hall, from those most suitable words : What shall I 
render unto the Lord for all his benefits ? I will take 
the cup, of saltation, and call upon the name of the Lord. 
His words did not fall to the ground - r many were 
greatly refreshed. After preaching there was a sweet 
contest among us : every one thought, I, in particu- 
lar owe the greatest debt of praise : till we jointly 
agreed to sing, 

" 111 praise ray Maker, while I've breath, 
And when my voice i$ lost in death, 

Praise shall employ my nobler powers i 
My days of praise shall ne'er be past, 
While life, or thought, or being last, 

Or immortality endures." 

" On the Wednesday following, the Seleet Socie- 
ty met : and it was a precious season. Among other 
things Mr. Fletcher said, " Some of you perhaps may 
be a little surprized at the step my dearest friend and I 
havetaken. ButI assure you, it was the result of much 
prayer and mature deliberation. Five and twenty 
years ago, when I first saw my dear y/ife, I thought-, 



if I ever married, she should be the person. Btit she 
was too rich for me to think of : So I banished every 
thought of the kind. For many years after. I had a 
distaste to a married life, thinking it impossible 
to be as much devoted to God in a married, as in a sin- 
gle life. But this objection was removed, by read- 
ing, Enoch begat sons and daughters. And Enoch 
walked with God^ and was not : for God took him. 1 
then saw, if Enoch at the head of a family might 
walk with God, and be fit for translation ; our souls 
under the gospel dispensation might attain the high- 
est degree of holiness in a similar state, if too gieat 
an attachment leading the soul from God, rather than 
to him did not take place : instead of that, which 
should be a means of increasing its union with Jesus. 
Yet still many obstacles stood in my way : but at 
length they were all removed. Every mountain: be- 
came a plain, and we are both well assured, that the 
step we took, had the full approbation of God. 5 ' 

" On January 2, 1782, we had a very solemn 
parting. But in the midst of all the sorrow which 
we felt, was a sweet assurance that we should meet 
again, not only in this world, but 

" Where death shall all be done away, 
And bodies part no more." 

This brings to my mind a sentence which he wrote 
to us, a little before his death. " Time is short. It 
remains that we die daily. Stand fast in Christ, the 



3-4 



resurrection and the life. That we may have a hap- 
py meeting, is the wish and prayer of 
Your affectionate friends, 

JOHN and MARY FLETCHER." 

" To repeat all the precious sayings of this ser- 
vant of God, would require many volumes : for his 
mouth was always opened with wisdom, tending to 
minister grace to the hearers. My earnest prayer 
is, that the spirit of faith and love, and heavenly wis- 
dom, may rest upon you also, and guide you in all 
your extensive labours, till they are swallowed up in 
eternal rest. 

I remain, Rev. Sir, 
Your unworthy child and servant, 

S. C." 

4. I cannot help subjoining a reflection here, 
which at that time affected me much. Although I 
could in no wise condemn this marriage,jret on one 
account it gave me pain. When 1 was young, I was 
exceedingly affected with a relation in Mr. Herbert's 
life ; an account of Mr. Farrar's family, at Little Gid- 
dings, in Huntingdonshire : a very particular descrip- 
tion of which is given in the Arminian Magazine. I 
longed to see such another family, in any part of the 
three kingdoms, At length I had my desire : I did 
see exactly such another family : I saw a family full 
as much devoted to God : full as regular in all their 
exercises of devotion, and at least as exemplary \j\ 



m 

every branch of Christian holiness. This I saw by 
the peculiar providence of God, settled at Laton- 
stone. O that it had continued there ! The removal 
of it into Yorkshire I did not advise nor approve of. 
However I rejoiced to see it settled somewhere i 
namely, at Cross-hall, n&ar Leeds. Again I did all 
that was-in my power, to perpetuate this glorious in- 
stitution. It was now totally dissolved : and yet by a 
means which I did not dare to oppose i 0 God, how 
unsearchable ure thy judgments J And Uiy ways past 
finding out, 



CHAP. VIII. 

From his Marriage till the beginning of his last TUnem, 

1. FROM the time of his settling at Madeley 
with Mrs. Fletcher, he had no return of his con- 
sumptive disorder. On the contrary, by the blessing 
of God on her peculiar care and tenderness, not only 
his health was confirmed, but his strength restored 
as in the days of his youth. In the mean time he 
took care to employ all his returning strength, in the 
work of faith and the labour of love. More partici* 
larly in that which he had always found to be one of 
the most difficult parts of his duty. We have in this 
parish, through the lenity of the magistrates, no less 
than eight public houses. These are well known to 
have been continual nurseries for sin, particularly on 



96 



Sunday evenings. It had been for many years his 
unwearied endeavour, to put an end to these abuses. 
Yet as he very seldom had a church-warden who was 
heartily willing to second him therein, his endeavours 
were almost ineffectual, producing very little fruit. 
But for two years God was now pleased to favour him 
with a church-warden, who was resolved to act ac- 
cording to his oath : he then cheerfully renewed his 
endeavours, visiting several of these houses every 
Sunday (all of them in their turn.) In every one he 
bore a faithful testimony. And in some it has been 
attended with much o^ood. O that no one 01 those who 
have been at any time within the reach of his voice, 
may finally inherit that curse, Behold^ ye desp.isers^ 
Kind wonder and perish ! 

2. For many years he had felt, with the deepest* - 
sensibility, the disconsolate condition of poor unin- 
structed children : and some years ago he hegan 
a school, wherein he taught them himself every day, 
After pursuing this method for some time, he erect- 
ed a school in Madeley- Wood. But afterward his 
thoughts were much employed, concerning the Sun- 
day-schools : especially since they were recommend- 
ed to him, in a letter from Mrs . Derby, a person whom 
he always found ready to promote every good work. 
He then earnestly set about promoting them in his 
own parish. Three hundred children were soon 
gathered together, whom he took every opportunity 
of instructing, by regular meetings, for sometime be- 
fore the schools were opened. These meetings he 
attended with the utmost diligence, to the very 
7'hursday before his illness. In order to encourage 



97 



the children, his method was to give them Utile hymn- 
hooks, pointing them to some friend or neighbour 
who would teach them the hymns, and instruct them 
to sing. The little creatures were greatly taken with 
this new employment : insomuch: that many of them 
would scarce allow themselves time to eat or sleep, for 
the desire they had of learning their lessons. At eve- 
ry meeting, after enquiring, Who had made the 
greatest proficiency, lie distinguished them by some 
reward. 

3. In the instructing of children, one great diffi- 
culty is, to draw and fix their attention. He had a 
singular gift for doing this, by making advantage 
of any incident that offered. One day , while he had 
a considerable number of children before him in the 
preaching-house, as he was persuading them to mind 
what they were about, and to remember the text which 
he was going to mention, just then a robin flew into 
the house, and their eyes were presently turned after 
him. " Now, said he, I see yon can attend to that 
robin. Well, I will take that robin for my text/* 
He then gave them an useful lecture on the harm- 
lessness of that little creature, and the tender care of 
its Creator. 

4. When he observed, that the number of chil- 
dren, instead of falling off, as was expected, increas- 
ed continually, he wrote some proposals to the parish, 
which were received with the greatest unanimity. 
Many of the rich as well as the trading people, 
lent their helping hand, not only to defray the ex- 
pence of teachers, but also to raise a convenient 



98 



Louse in Coalhrook-Dale, for the instruction of the 
numerous children that were on that side of the pa- 
rish. 

5. The proposal was as follows. " Our nation- 
al depravity turns greatly on these two hinges, the 
profanation of the Lord's-day, and the neglect of the 
education of children. Till some way is fcund of 
stopping up these two great inlets of wickedness, wc 
must expect to see our work-houses filled with aged 
parents, forsaken by their prodigal children, with 
wives forsaken by their faithless husbands, and with 
the wretched offspring oflewd women and drunken 
men. Nay, we may expect to see the goals and even the 
gailows largely stocked (to the perpetual reproach of 
our nation) with unhappy wretches, ready to fall a 
sacrifice to the laws of their country. 14 It is a com- 
mon observation (says Dr. Gibson, late Bishop of 
London) that public criminals, when they come to 
their unhappy end, and make their dying declarations 
to the world, generally charge the sinful courses in 
which they have lived, to the neglect and abuse of the 
Lord's~day, as the first occasion of leading them into 
all other wickedness. And considering how fre- 
quently these declarations are repeated, and how r ma- 
nv other instances of the same kind, though less pub- 
lic, are notorious enough to those who will observe 
them ; they may well be a warning to us, to consi- 
der a religious observation of the Lord's-day, as the 
best preservative of virtue and religion ; and the ne- 
glect and profanation of it as the greatest inlet to vice 
and wickedness." 



99 



6. A pious clergyman farther observes, u e 
want of education in children, is one of the principal 
causes of the misery of families, cities and nations ; 
ignorance, vice and misery being constant companions. 
The hardest heart must melt at the melancholy sight 
of such a number of children, both male and female, 
who live in gross ignorance and habitual profanation 
of the Lord's-day. What crowds fill the streets and 
fields, tempting each other to idleness, lewdness, and 
every other species of wickedness ? Is it any wonder 
we should have so many undutiful children, unfaith- 
ful apprentices, disobedient servants, untrusty work- 
men, disloyal subjects, and bad members of society ? 
Whence so much rapine, fornication and blasphemy ? 
Do not all these evils center in ignorance and contempt 
cf the l,ord's-day ? And shall we do nothing to check 
these growing evils ? 

7. " Persons concerned for the welfare of the next 
generation, and well-wishers to church and state, 
have already set us a fair example in Stroud, Glou- 
cester, Birmingham, Manchester, Leeds, Bristol, and 
many country parishes. They have attempted to rem- 
edy jthese evils by setting up Sunday-schools, which by 
keeping children from corrupting one another, by pro- 
moting their attendance on divine worship, and by 
planting the first principals of useful knowledge in 
their minds, and of piety in their hearts, bid fair for 
a public reformation of manners, and for nipping in 
the bud the ignorance and impiety which is every 
where so common among the lower and more nume- 
rous classes of people." 



100 



8. Theproposals concerning Sunday-schools, in the 
parish of Madeley, where as follows : 

I. It is proposed, that Sunday-schools be set up 
ia this parish, for such children as are employed all 
the week, and for those whose education has been 
hitherto totally neglected, 

II. That the children admitted into these, be 
taught reading, writing, and the principals of reli- 
gion. 

III. That there be a school for boys and another 
for girls, in Madeley, Madeley-Wood, and Coal- 

brook-Bale, six in all. 

IV. That a subscription be opened, to pay each 
teacher one shilling per Sunday, and to buy tables, 
forms, books, pens and ink. 

V. That two treasurers be appointed to ask and 
receive the contributions of the subscribers. 

VI. That whoever subscribes one guinea a year 
shall be governor. 

VII. That three or four inspectors be appointed, ' 
who are to visit the schools once a week, to see that 
the children attend regularly, and the masters do 
their duty. 

VIII. That a book be provided, for setting down 
all receipts and expenses : and another for the names 
of the teachers and the scholars. 



101 

IX. That the "schools be solemnly visited once or 
twice a year : and a premium given to the children 
that have made the greatest improvement. 

9. As to the success of his unwearied labours, al- 
though he was much discouraged when he first re- 
turned from abroad, finding so many of those who 
had once run well, grown weary and faint in their 
mind ; yet it was not long before he found fresh cause 
to rejoice, and to know, that God was with him of a 
v.. h. It was not long before he observed that a 
general reformation had taken place in the parish. 
And it was not only an outward reformation, even of 
many that had been notorious for all manner of wick- 
edness ; but an inward also: many both young and 
old, having learned to worship God in spirit and truth. 
A considerable number of these still mourn, as sheep 
bereaved of their shepherd. And yet one cannot 
doubt, but a still larger company of his own children 
have hailed him on the celestial shore. But the sea- 
son is coming when all secrets shall be laid open ; 
and ail the jewels of his crown shall be made mani- 
fest in that day. 

10. One instance of the success of his ministry, 
he mentioned some years since at Bristol. 4 * One 
Sunday, said be, when I had done reading prayers at 
Madeley, I went up into the pulpit, intending to 
preach a sermon, which I had prepared for that pur - 
pose. But my mind was so confused, that I 
could not recollect either my text or any part of my 
sermon. I was afraid I should be obliged to come 
down without saying any thing. But having recol- 
I 2 



102 



fected myself a little, I thought I would say some- 
thing on the first lesson, which was the third chap- 
ter of Daniel, containing- the account of the three chil- 
dren cast into the fiery furnace : I found in doing it 
such an extraordinary assistance from God, and such 
a peculiar enlargement of heart that I supposed there 
must be some peculiar cause for it. I therefore de- 
sired, if any of the congregation found any thing par- 
ticular, they would acquaint me with it in the ensu- 
ing week. 

" In consequence of this, the Wednesday after, 
a woman came, and gave me the following account : 
I have been for some time much concerned about 
my soul. I have attended the church at all opportu- 
nities, and have spent much time in private prayer. 
At this my husband, (who is a butcher) has been 
exceedingly enraged, and threatened me severely 
what he would do, if I did not leave off going to John 
Fletcher's church : yea, if I dared to go any more to 
any religious meetings whatsoever. When I told 
him I could not in conscience refrain from going, at 
least to our parish church, he grew quite outrage- 
ous, and .swore dreadfully, if I went any'more, he 
would cut my throat as soon as I came home. This 
made me cry mightily to God, that he would sup- 
port me in the trying hour. And though I did not 
feel any great degree of comfort, yet having a sure 
confidence in God, I determined to go on in my duty, 
and leave the event to him. Last Sunday, after ma- 
ny struggles with the devil and my own heart, I came 
down stairs ready for church. My husband asked 
me whether I was resolved to go thither I I told him 



ios 



I was. Well then, said he, I shall not (as I intend* 
ed) cut your throat, but I will heat the oven and 
throw you into it, the moment you come home.... 
Notwithstanding this threatening*, which he enforced 
with many bitter oaths, I went to church, praying all 
the way, that God would strengthen me to suffer 
whatever might befal me. While you was speak- 
ing of the three children whom Nebuchadnezzar 
cast into the burning fiery furnace, 1 found it all be- 
longed to ?ne, and God applied every word to my 
heart. And when the sermon was ended, I thought, 
if I had a thousand lives, I could lay them all down 
for God. I felt my whole soul so filled with his love, 
that I hastened home, fully determined to give my- 
self to whatsoever God pleased : nothing doubting, 
but that either he would take me to heaven, if he 
suffered me to be burnt to death ; or that he would 
some way deliver me, even as he did his three 
servants that trusted in him. When I got almost 
to our own door, I saw the flames issuing out of 
the mouth of the oven. And I expected no thing 
else but that I should be thrown into it immedi- 
ately. I felt my heart rejoice, that if it were so, 
the will of the Lord would be done. I opened the 
door, and to my utter astonishment, saw my husband 
upon his knees, wrestling with God in prayer, for 
the forgiveness of his sins. He caught me in his 
arms, earnestly begged my pardon, and has conti- 
nued diligently seeking God ever since. I now know 
why my sermon was taken from me, namely, that 
God might thus magnify his mercy." 

11. Many were the dangers he went through in 
the course of his ministry \ but the Lord delivered 



104 

• him out of all. One of these Mrs. Fletcher relates 
in the following words : 

" My husband having appointed to preach one 
Sunday ai a church about fourteen miles off, I felt 
some concern for his riding so far, and doing the 
whole Sunday's duty twice: especially as it was neces- 
sary for him to return home the same night. The - 
evening being exceeding dark and wet, I was strong- 
ly led to commend him to God in prayer. While I 
was doing this, it was suggested to me, that his horse - 
was fallen, and had thrown him over his head : and 
the whole scene appeared to be clearly represented ? 
before my eyes. " My God. said I, he is thine.... 
His life, his limbs, his health are all thine 1 I com- 
mit him to thee by faith. Immediately that word 
was imprest on my heart, The righteous is in the hand 
of the Lord : and there shall no evil tenth him. And 
it impowered my soul with such a sweetness, that I 
could feel no fear. The night was uncommonly bad, 
which occasioned many friends to continue with me. 
And while they expressed their great uneasiness at 
his staying two hours longer than we could well ac- 
count for, I was obliged to hide the calmness I felt by 
silence, lest some should have supposed it insensibili- 
ty*. At last he came well, and praising God; but 
asked for water to wash himself, because his horse 
had fallen, and thrown him with great force over his 



* Aaz/, / would have proclaimed it aloud, giving 
the glory to God } for the comfort of all that nvcre pre- 
sent. 



head. Yet, glory be to God, he was no way hurt, ex- 
cept having a little skin grazed from one of his fin- 
gers. As he set the Lord always before him, so he 
found his help in every time of need." 

12. The laying the. foundation of the Sunday- 
schools at Madelev, was the last public work in 
which he was employed. But as the liberal man is 
ever devising liberal things, he had several plans in 
his mind, for preserving a great number of desolate 
children, brought up only to beg and steal. Such 
this populous parish, (and indeed most others) afford 
in great abundance. He had likewise proposed wri- 
ting various little tracts*, for the use of the schools. 
But he who cannot err, saw good to call his servant 
hence to enjoy rather than to leave him here to do and 
suffer. 

CHAP. IX. 

His Character. 

1. I AM sensible, it is the method of almost all 
Writers, to place the character of a man at the con- 
clusion of his life. But there seems to be a particu- 
lar reason for varying from the usual practice in this 



* / do not regret his not living to write those 
tracts : because I despair of seeing any in the English 
tongue^ superior to those extracts from Abbe Fkury and 



place. The death of Mr. Fletcher (hardly to be 
paralleled in the present century) was so uncommon 
a display of the power and goodness cf Gccl in behalf 
of his highly favoured servant, that it is not proper 
for any thing to come after it. It must nee,ds there- 
fore close the whole account. 

2. From even the imperfect account, which has 
been given of this great and good man, any discern- 
ing person may with very little -difficulty extract his 
character. In general, it is easy to perceive, that a 
more excellent man has not appeared in the church 
for some ages. It is true, in several ages, and in seve- 
ral countries, many men have excelled in particular 
virtues and graces. But who can point out in any 
age or nation, one that so highly excelled in all ? Ore 
that was enabled in so large a measure to put on ikt 
whole armour of God ? Yea, so to put on Christy as to 
perfect holiness in the fear of God ? 

3. Yet there is a peculiar difficulty in giving a full 
account of either his life or character 3 hecause we have 
scarce any light from himself. He was upon all oc- 
casions very uncommonly reserved in speaking of 
himself, whether in writing or conversation. He 
hardly ever said any thing concerning himself, unless 
it slipped from him unawares. And among the great 



Mr. Poiret, published under the title of " Instructions 
for children" I have never yet seen any thing compa- 
rable to them, either for depth ef sense > or plainness of 
language. 



107 



number of papers which he has left, there is 
scarce a page, (except that single account of his con- 
version to God) relative either to his own inward ex- 
perience, or the transactions of his life. So that the 
most of the information we have is gathered up, either 
from short hints scattered up and down in his letters, 
from what he had occasional!} 7 dropped among his 
friends, or from what one and another remembered 
concerning him. In writing the lives and charac- 
ters of eminent men, the Roman Catholics have a 
great advantage over us. The pious members of the 
church of Rome make a conscience of concealing any 
thing from their directors, but disclose to them all 
the circumstances of their lives, and all the secrets 
of their hearts : whereas very few of the Protestants 
disclose to others, even their most intimate friends, 
what passes between God and their own souls : at 
least not of set purpose. Herein they forgot, or at 
least disregard, that wise remark of the ancient wri- 
ters (exactly agreeable to various passages that occur 
in the canonical scriptures), It is good to conceal the 
tecrets of a King^ but to declare the loving-kindness of 
the Lord. 

4. This defect was indeed in some measure sup- 
plied, by the entire intimacy which subsisted between 
him and Mrs Fletcher. He did not willingly, much 
less designedly, conceal any thing from her. They 
had no secrets with regard to each other, but had in- 
deed one house, one purse, and one heart. Before 
her it was his invariable rule, to think aloud : always 
to open the window in his breast. And to this we 
are indebted for the knowledge of many particulars, 
which must otherwise have been buried in oblivion, 



108 



5. But whatever the materials were, however 
compleat our informations, yet I am thoroughly 
sensible of my own inability to draw such a portrait 
as Mr. Fletcher deserves. I have no turn at all for 
panegyric : I have never accustomed myself to it.... 
It gives me therefore no small satisfaction to find, 
that this is in a great measure done to my hands.... 
The picture is already drawn ; and that by no mean 
pencil. All then which I shall attempt is, to re- 
touch Mrs. Fletchers observations, and now and then 
to add a few articles, either from my own knowledge 
or from the information of others. 

6. The following are mostly her own words, for 
where they are clear and expressive, as they gene- 
rally are, I do not think it right to alter them tor al- 
tering sake. 

" Whatever he might be with regard to charity, 
said she, he was no less eminent for his spirit of faith. 
Indeed he was not so much led by sights or impres- 
sions (which many mistake for faith) as abundance 
of people have been ; but by a steady, firm reliance 
Upon the love and truth and faithfulness of God. Kis 
ardent desire was, so to believe, as to be a partaker 
of all the great and precious promises : to be a wit- 
ness of all that mind which was in Christ Jesus.... 
And being conscious that he must be crucified with 
his Master, or never reign with him, he gave himself 
up to him, whom he continually set before him, to lie 
in his hand as the passive clay. He would often say, 
It is my business in all events, to hang upon ti e Lord, 
with a sure trust and confidence, that he will order 



109 

iill things in the best time and manner. Indeed it 
would be nothing to be a believer, nay, in truth, there 
would be no room for faith, if every thing were seen 
here. But against hope to believe in hope, to have a 
full confidence in that unseen power, which so migh- 
tily supports us in all our dangers and difficulties, 
this is the ^believing which is acceptable to God...* 
Sometimes when I have expressed some apprehen- 
sion of an approaching trial, he would answer, I do 
not doubt but the Lord orders all : therefore I leave 
every thing to him. In outward dangers, if they 
were ever so great, he seemed to know no shadow of 
fear. When I was speaking once, concerning dan- 
ger, to which we were then particularly exposed, he 
answered, I know God always gives his angels charge 
concerning us: therefore we are equally safe every 
where. 

u Not less eminent than his faith was his humili- 
ty. Amidst all his laying himself out for God, and 
for the good of souls, he ever preserved that special 
grace, the making no account of his own labours..., 
He held himself and his own abilities in very low es- 
teem : and seemed to have that word continually be- 
fore his eyes, " 1 am an unprofitable servant." And 
this humility was so rooted in him, as to be moved 
by no affront. I have seen many, even of the most 
provoking kind, offered him ; but he received them 
3 his /iro/ier fwrtion ; being so far from desiring the 
h . our which cometh of men, that he took pleasure 
i; being little and unknowii. Perhaps it might ap- 
pear from some passages of his life, that in this he 
even leaned to an extreme. For genuine humility 

K 



110 



does not require, that any m~m should desire to he de~ 
xjiistd. Nay, we are to avoid it, so far as we possi- 
bly can, consistently with a good conscience ; for 
that direction, JLet no man dcsjiise thee, concerns 
every may as well as Timothy. 

" It is rare to meet with an eminent person that 
can bear an equal. But it was his choice and his 
delight, to prefer every one to himself. And this he 
did in so free and easy a manner, that in him it ap- 
peared perfectly natural. He never willingly suffer- 
ed any unkindness shewn to him to be mentioned 
again ; and if it was, he generally answered, u O 
let it drop ; we will offer it in silence to the Lord.' 5 
And indeed the best way of bearing crosses, is to 
consecrate all in silence to God. 

M From this root of humility sprung such a pa- 
tience, as I wish I could either describe or imitate. It 
produced in him a most ready mind, which embrac- 
ed every cross with alacrity and pleasure. For the 
good of his neighbour, nothing seemed hard, nothing 
wearisome. Sometimes I have been grieved to call 
him out of his study two or three times in an hour : 
especially when he was engaged in composing some 
of his deepest works. But he would answer, with 
his usual sweetness, " O my dear, never think, of 
that. It matters not, if we are but always ready to 
meet the will of God." It is conformity to the will 
of God that alone makes an employment excellent. 
He never thought any thing too mean but sin ; he 
looked on nothing else as beneath his character. If 
he overtook a poor man, or woman on the road, with 



Ill 



a burden too heavy for them, he did not fail to offer 
his assistance to bear part of it. And he would not 
easily take a denial. This therefore lie has frequent- 
ly done. 

" In bearing pain he was most exemplary, and 
continued more and more so to the last. Nor was it 
least remarkable in the most humbling part of the mi- 
nistry, the coming down to the capacities of the 
ignorant. Nevertheless he had a most resolute 
courage, in the reproving of sin. To daring sin- 
ners he was a son of thunder ; and no worldly con- 
siderations were regarded, whenever he believed 
God had given him a message to deliver to any of 
them. 

" One considerable part of humility is, to know 
our own place and stand therein. Every member 
has its peculiar appointment in the human body, 
where the wise master-builder has placed it. And 
it is well, while each continues in its place. But as 
every dislocated bone gives pain, and must continue 
so to do, till it is replaced in its proper socket : so 
every dislocated affection must give pain to the soul, 
till it is restored to its own place ; till it is totally 
fixt in God, till we resign our whole selves to the dis- 
posal of infinite wisdom. This is the proper place 
for every rational creature : and in this place he in- 
variably stood. Whatever he believed to be the will 
of God, he resolutely performed, though it were to 
pluck out a right eye, to lay his Isaac on the altar. 
When it appeared that God called him to any jour- 
ney, he immediately prepared for it, without the 



ira 

least hesitation t although for the last years of his 
life, he hardly ever travelled to any considerable dis- 
tance, without feeling some tendency to a relapse 
into his former distemper. And it was usually some 
weeks after his return, before he recovered his usual 
strength. 

" Humility continually produces meekness^ and the 
latter bears an exact proportion to the former. I re- 
ceived a letter on this head but a few days since, which- 
it may not be improper to subjoin* 

" Rev. SiR r 

I was yesterday in company with several cler- 
gymen, who among other things mentioned Mr. 
Fletcher, and seemed particularly anxious, that in 
the account of his life, a proper degree of caution 
should be observed, in the panegyric that may be ap- 
plied to his character. They say he was extremely 
pah. 'onate : and that there was in many instances an 
austere severity and rigour in his conduct to the 
your.g people under his care, particularly at Tre- 
vecka. As this information comes from a gentle- 
man, eminent for his knowledge of mankind and uni- 
versally esteemed, as one of the greatest geniuses of 
the age, and one whose veracity has never been ques- 
tioned, it will have no small weight in the learned 
world. 5 ' 

7. 1 am glad this information came to my hands 
in time, as it may now receive so sufficient an an- 
swer, as will probably satisfy every candid and im- 
partial reader. 



113 



Two things are here asserted concerning Mr. 
Fletcher, the first ; That he was extremely pas- 
sionate : the second, That there was an austere se- 
verity and rigour in his conduct toward the young 
persons under his care, particularly at Trevecka.... 
The former assertion is unquestionably true : such 
he was by nature. The latter I question much, with 
regard to his conduct at Tern, as well as at Trevecka. 
Nolle can be a more competent witness of his con- 
duct at Tern, than Mr. Vaughan, who lived so long 
in the same house : and whose testimony concern- 
ing him has been so largely given in the preceding 
pages. Eat waving this : can it possibly be suppos- 
ed that either Mr. Hill, or his sons, then verging to- 
ward manhood, would have borne the austere rigour 
and severity of a young man, that received his bread 
from them ? Yea, and that year after year ? Surely 
the supposition shocks all credibility. 

8. Equally incredible is the assertion of his u aus- 
tere severity and rigour, " toward the young men at 
Trevecka. This is inconsistent with the whole ac- 
count given by Mr. Benson, an eye and ear witness 
of all his conduct. Had it been true in any degree 3 
would it have been possible that he should havebeera 
so esteemed and beloved by those very young men ? 
I cannot form the least conjecture, whence such an 
assertion couid arise, unless it was invented by some 
young man, after Mr. Fletcher was dismissed, in or- 
der to ingratiate himself with his patroness. 

9- The farther account which Mr. Benson gives 

of him from personal knowledge is this. « Mr. 

k2 >" 



114 



Fletcher, says he, was naturally a man of strong pas- 
sions, and prone to anger in particular : insomuch 
that he has frequently thrown himself on the floor, and 
laid there most of the night bathed in tears, implor- 
ing victory, ever his own spirit. And he did not 
strive in vain : he did obtain the victory, in a very 
eminent degree. For twenty years and upwards be- 
fore his death, no one ever saw him out of temper, 
or heard him utter a rash expression, on any provo- 
cation whatever. I have often thought the testimo- 
ny that Bishop Burnet (in the history of his 
own times) bears of Archbishop Leighton, might 
be borne of him with equal propriety. " After 
an intimate acquaintance with the Archbishop for 
many years, and after being with him by night, and 
by day, at home and abroad, in public and private, on 
sundry occasions and in various affairs : I must say, 
I never heard an idle word drop from his lips, nor any 
conversation which was not to the use of edifying. I 
never saw him in any temper, in which I myself 
would not have wished to be found at death." Any 
that has been intimately acquainted with Mr. Fletch- 
er, will say the same of him. But they that knew him 
best, will say it with the most assurance. 

la His disengagements from the world and love 
of the floor, Mrs. Fletcher joins together. "Never, 
says she, did I behold any one more dead to the things 
of the world. Flis treasure was above : and so was 
his heart also. He always remembered that admo- 
nition of the Apostle, No man that warreth entangle th 
himself with the things of this life. It was his constant 
endeavour toprtserve a mind free and disencumbered; 



115 



and he was exceeding wary of undertaking any busi- 
ness, that might distract and hurry it. Yet in his 
worldly concerns, knowing himself to be a steward 
for God, he would not through carelessness waste one 
penny. He likewise judged it to be his bounden du- 
ty to demand what he knew to be his right. And yet 
he could well reconcile this with that word, He that 
will have thy coat^ let him have thy cloak also. Indeed 
whether he had less or more, it was the same thing 
upon his own account : as he had no other use for it ? 
but to spread the gospel, and to assist the poor. And 
he frequently said, he never was happier, than when 
he had given away the last penny he had in his house. 
If at any time I had gold in my drawers, it seemed to 
afford him no comfort. But if he could find a hand- 
ful of small silver, when he was going out to see 
the sick, he would express as much pleasure over it 
as a miser would in discovering a bag of hid treasure. 
He was never better pleased with my employment, 
than when he had set me to prepare food or physic 
for the poor. * He was hardly able to relish his din- 
ner, if some sick neighbour had not a part of it : and 
some times if any one of them was in want, I could 
not keep the linen in his drawers. On Sundays he 
provided for numbers of people, who came from a 
distance to hear the word : and his house as well as 
his heart, was devoted to their convenience : to relieve 
them that were afflicted in body or mind, was the de- 
light of his heart. Once a poor man who feared 
God, being brought into great difficulties, he took 
down all the pewter from the kitchen shelves, saying, 
" this will help you: and I can do without it: a wood- 
en trencher will serve me just as well." In epidemic 



116 



and contagious distempers, when thej neighbours 
were afraid to nurse the sick, he has gone from house 
to house, seeking some that were willing to under- 
take it. And when none could be found he has offer- 
ed his service, to sit up with them himself. But 
this was at his first setting out here. At present there 
appears in many (and has done so for many years) a 
most ready mind to visit and relieve the distressed. 

11. He thoroughly complied with that advice. 

M Give to all something : to a good poor man, 
Till thou change hands, and be where he began " 

I have heard him say, that when he lived alone in his 
house, the tears have come into his eyes, when one 
has brought him five or six insignificant letters, at 
three or four pence apiece: and perhaps he had only 
a single shilling in the house, to distribute among 
the poor to whom he was going. He frequently said 
to me , " O Folly, can we not do without beer r Let 
us drink water, and eat less meat. Let our necessi- 
ties give way to the extremities of the poor." 

12. But with all his generosity and charity he 
was strictly careful, to follow the advice of the apos- 
tle, Owe no man any thing. He contracted no debt. 
While he gave all he had, he made it a rule to pay 
ready money for every thing : believing this was the 
best way to keep the mind unencumbered and free 
from care. Meanwhile his substance, his time, his 
strength, his life, were devoted to the service of the 
poor. And last of all he gave vie to them. For 



117 



when we were married, he asked me solemnly 
" Whether I was willing to marry his parish ?" And 
the first time he led me among his people in this 
place, he said, " I have not married this wife only 
for myself, but for you. I asked her of the Lord for 
your comfort, as well as my own." 

13. All his life, as well as during his illness, par- 
ticularly at Newington and -Brislington (as has been 
largely related) he w^sgrateful'm a very high degree* 
to those who conferred the least benefit upon him : 
yea, or even endeavoured so to do. One of these was 
Mr. Richard Edwards, of London, to whose care he 
was committed as a leader, when he was first admit- 
ted into the London society. A lively sense of the 
kindness which Mr. Edwards then shewed him, he 
retained to the end of his life. This he testified by 
repeated letters : one or two of which it may be well 
to transcribe. 

Tern, Oct. 19, 175 6, 

"Dearest Erotheb, 

" This is to let you know, that (praise be to the 
Lord ;) I am very well in body and pretty well in soul. 
But I have very few christian friends here. And 
God has been pleased to take away the chief of those 
few by a most comfortable death. And lately I 
heard that an aged father has gone the way of all 
flesh. But the glorious circumstances of his death 
make me ample amends for the sorrow which I felt. 
For some years Ihave wrote to him with as much free- 
dom as \ could have done to a son, though not with 



118 



so much effect as I wished. But last spring God 
visited him with a severe illness, which brought him 
to a sense of himself. And after a deep repentance, 
he died about a month ago, in the full assurance of 
faith. This has put several of my friends on think- 
ing seriously, which affords me great cause of thank- 
fulness. I am, 

Your unworthy brother, 

And servant in the Lord, 

JOHN FLETCHER." 

14. Two years after he wrote to him as follows : 

" I thank you for your encouraging observations* 
I want them, and use them by the grace of God.... 
AY hen I received yours I had not had one opportuni- 
ty of preaching : so incensed were all the clergy a- 
gainst me. One however let me have the use of his 
church, the abbey church at Shrewsbury. I preached 
in the forenoon with some degree of the demonstra- 
tion of the Spirit. The congregation was very nu- 
merous : and I believe one half at least desired to 
hear me again. Eut the minister would not let me 
have the pulpit any more. The next Sunday the 
minister of a neighbouring parish lying a dying, I 
was sent for to officiate for him. He died a few days 
after, and the chief man in the parish offered to make 
interest, that I might succeed him. Eut I could not 
consent. The next Sunday I preached at Shrews- 
bury again ; but in another church. The next day I 
set out for Bristol, and was much refreshed among 
the brethren. As I returned, I called at New-Kings- 



119 



wood, about sixteen miles from Bristol. (The mi- 
nister offering me his church) I preached to a nume- 
rous congregation, gathered on half an hour's notice* 
I think the seed then sown will not be lost." 

13. " Another uncommon talent which God had 
given him, says Mrs. F. was a peculiar sensibility of 
spirit. He had a temper the most feeling of any I 
ever knew. Hardly a night passed over, but some 
part of it was spent in groans for the souls and 
bodies committed to his care. I dreaded his hear- 
ing, either of the sins or sufferings of any of his peo- 
ple, before the time of his going to bed, knowing 
how strong the impressions would be on his mind, 
chasing the sleep from his eyes. 

" And yet I have heard him speak of a time, 
twelve or fourteen years ago, when he was greatly 
tempted to think, that he was not sensible enough of 
the afflictions of his fellow-creatures. He thought 
Christ bore cur infirmities, and carried our sorrows: 
but, said he, " I have not that Christ-iike temper : I 
do not bear the sorrows of others. '* After being for 
some time buffeted with this temptation, he prayed 
that a measure of this spirit might be given him ... 
Not long after, as he was visiting a poor, sick family, 
so lively a sense of their affliction, on a sudden, fell 
upon his mind, that he could scarce get home. As 
soon as he sat down in his house, his soul was pene- 
trated with such a sense of the woes of mankind, as 
utterly depressed and overcame him, and drank up 
his spirits, insomuch that he could not help him- 
self, nor move from one chair to another. And he 



120 



was no more able to walk or help himself than a new- 
born child. At the same time he seemed to lose the 
use of his memory, -and all his faculties. He thought, 
What is this? Is it a disease ? Is it a stroke of the 
palsy ! Rather is it not an answer to my own ill- 
judged, though well intended prayer ? Did I not ask 
a. burden unsuitable to a finite, and capable of being 
borne only by an infinite being ? He remained some 
hours in this situation. Then it came into his mind, 
if this is a purely natural event, the will of the Lord 
be done ! B at if be an answer to an i mproper prayer, 
God will answer again by removing it. He cried to 
the Lord, and was immediately restored to strength 
both of body and mind. 

« When we were at Leeds, in the year 1784, I 
had another proof of the tender sensibility of his 
heart. O how deeply was he affected, concerning 
the welfare of his brethren ! When any httle disputes 
arose between them, his inmost soul groaned under 
the burden. And by two or three o'clock in the 
morning, I was sure to hear him breathing out pray- 
er, for the pea.ce and prosperity of Sion. When I 
observed to him, I was afraid it would hurt his health, 
and wished him to sleep more, he would answer, 64 Q 
Polly, the cause of God lies near my heart !" 

" Toward me, his tenderness was exerter! in its ut- 
most extent. My soul, my body, my health, my 
ease and comfort, were his daily study. We had no 
thought either past or present, which Ave purpose Jy 
concealed from each other. My spiritual ac; r; i ic- 
ment was his constant endeavour : and to this he 



121 



was continually stirring me up, inviting mc to walk 
more closely with God : urging that thought, " O my 
dear, let us pray for dying grace ; for we shall not 
be long here. His temporal affairs he committed 
solely to me, though he was always ready to assist 
me in the smallest matters. 

" One article more remains to be spoken of* 
namely his communion with God. Although he en- 
joyed this, more or less at all times and in all places, 
yet I have frequently heard him observe, that the 
seasons of his closest communion were always in 
his own house or in the church : usually in the lat- 
ter. It is much to be lamented, that we have no ac- 
count of it from his own pen. It was his constant en- 
deavour, to maintain an uninterrupted sense of the 
presence of God. In order to this, he was slow of 
speech, and had the greatest government of his words. 
Indeed he both acted, and spoke, and thought, as un- 
der the eye of God. And thus setting God always 
before him, he remained unmoved in all occurrences; 
at all times and on every occasion possessing inward 
recollection. Nor did I ever see him diverted there- 
from, on any occasion whatever, either going out or 
coming in, whether by ourselves or in company. 
Sometimes he took his journies alone : but above a 
thousand miles I have travelled with him : during 
which, neither change of company, place, nor the va- 
riety of circumstances which naturally occur in tra- 
velling, ever seemed to make the least difference in 
his firm attention to the presence of God. To pre- 
serve this uniform habit of soul, he was so watchful 
and recollected; that to such as were unexperienced 

L 



\%2 t 



in these things, it might appear like insensibility. Al- 
though no one could converse in a more lively and 
sensible manner, even on natural things, when he saw 
it was to the glory of God. He was always striving 
to raise his own, and every other spirit, to a close 
and immediate intercourse with God. And I can say 
with truth, all his union with me was so intermingled 
with prayer and praise, that every employment, and 
every meal was, as it were, perfumed therewith.' 5 

16 I had concluded what I purposed to say, 
concerning the character of Mr. Fletcher, when I re- 
ceived a long letter from Mr. Benson ; an extract 
of which I cannot withhold from the reader. For 
although most of the particulars hereof are contain- 
ed in the preceding pages, yet as they are here 
placed in quite another order, and have also several 
new circumstances intermixed, I could not doubt of 
their being both agreeable and profitable to every 
person of piety. 

" As to drawing the character of that great and 
good man, says Mr. Benson, it is what I will not at- 
tempt : but if I can suggest any thing that will as- 
sist you therein, I shall think my little labour well 
bestowed. With this view I have been looking over 
many of his letters, and observe in them all, what I 
have a thousand times observed in his conversation 
and behaviour, the plainest marks of every christian 
grace and virtue. 

« Perhaps if he followed his Master more close- 
ly in one thing than in another, it was in JnunilUy. 



123 



It is one branch of poverty of spirit (another word 
for humility) to think meanly of ourselves. And he 
certainly thought meanly of himself, both as a chrte* 
tian, as v. preacher, and as a writer, I need not say , how 
he shone in all those characters ; but he knew ru t, 
that he shone in any of them. How low an opinion 
he had of himself as a christian, manifestly appears 
from his placing himself at the feet of ail, and shew- 
ing a continual desire to learn from every company 
he was in. He paid all due deference to the judg- 
ment of others, readily acknowledged whatever was 
good in them, and seemed to think himself the only 
person in whom there dwelt no excellency worth no- 
tice. Hence it was, that he often wrote and spoke, 
as if he had not received that grace, which he un- 
doubtedly had received. And indeed he overlooked 
what he had attained, through the eager desire he 
had of higher and greater things. Many of his let- 
ters shew, how very meanly he thought of his own 
attainments as a christian : through the continually 
increasing views which he had of the divine purity, 
and of the high degree of conformity thereto, which 
is attainable even in this world. 

H And however little he was in his own eyes 
as a christian, he was equally so as a writer and a 
preacher. In consequence of the mean opinion he 
had of his own abilities, he gladly offered w r hat he 
wrote to be corrected by any friend, however inferior 
to himself. Thus in a letter, dc.»ted Nov. 23, 177i, 
he says, " I have sent a letter of fifty pages upon 
Antinomianism. I beg, upon my bended knees, you 
would revise and correct it. I have followed my 



124 



tight, small as it is. Put yours to mine." What a 
mean opinion he had of his own writings, appears 
from a letter written March 20, 1774," I do not re- 
pent of my having engaged in this controversy : for, 
though I doubt, my little publication cannot reclaim 
those, who are confirmed in believing the lie of the 
day, yet they may here and there stop one from swal- 
lowing it at all, or at least from swallowing it so deep- 
ly Two years after, he says, " I have almost run 
my race of scribbling: and I have preached as much 
as I could, though to little purpose ; but I must not 
complain. If one person has received good by my 
ten years labour, it is an honourfor which I cannot be 
toothankful, if my mind were as low as it should be. 
Let us bless the Lord in all things." 

" As difficult as it is, to think meanly of our- 
selves, it is still more difficult to be willing that others 
should think meanly of us. And how eminent he was 
in this, appears from hence, that he was constantly 
upon his guard, least any expression should drop 
either from his lips or pen, which tended to make any 
one think well of him: either on account of his fami- 
ly, or learning, or parts, or usefulness. Yea, he took 
as much pains to conceal his excellencies, as others 
do to shew them: having the same desire to be little 
and unknown, which many have to be known and es- 
teemed. 

« It would have remained a secret in this king- 
dom even to his most intimate friends, that he was of 
so great a family, had not Mr. Ireland gone over 
with him to Switzerland : where he was surprized to 



125 



find Mr. Fletcher's relations some of the first people 
in the country. 

" Blessed are they thai mourn , said the Lord Jesus. 
And this blessedness was as certainly his as the for- 
mer. He was a man of a serious spirit, one that 
stood at the utmost distance from levity of every kind. 
Though he was constantly cheerful, as rejoicing in 
hope of his heavenly inheritance, yet had he too deep a 
sense of his own wants , and the wants of the church 
of God, as also of the sins and miseries of mankind, 
to be at any time light or trifling. I have a letter be- 
fore me (dated Dec. 1771) which at once gives us a 
picture of his seriousness, watchfulness and earnest- 
ness ; and contains advices well deserving the conside- 
ration of all that fear God,........" There is undoubt- 
edly, said he, such a thing as the full assurance of 
faith. Be not discouraged on account of thousands, 
who stop short of it : it is cur own fault if we do not 
attain... ..God would give us ample satisfaction if we 
did but deeply feel our wants. Both you and I want 
adeeper awakening, which will produce a death to out- 
ward things and speculative knowledge. Let us shut 
our eyes to the gilded clouds without us : let us draw 
inward, and search after God, if haply we may find 
him. Letushold our confidence, though we are often 
constrained against hope to believe in hope. But Itt 
us not rest in our confidence, as thousands do ; let it 
help us to struggle and wait, tili he come. Let us 
habituate ourselves to live inwardly. This will so- 
lemnize us, and prevent our trifling with the tilings 
of God. We may be thankful for what we have, 

without resting in it. We may strive, and yet not 
L 2 



126 



:rust in our striving : but expect all from divine 
grace.' ' 

C£ Four or five years after, he says, " I send this 
to enquire after your welfare, and to let you know, 
that though I am pretty well in body, yet I break fast. 
But I want to break faster in my spirit than I do. Yet, 
blessed be God, I have been in such pinching, grind- 
ing circumstances, for near a year, by a series of pro- 
vidential and domestic trials, as have given me some 
deadly blows. I am not without hope of setting my 
eyes on you once more. Mr. Wesley kindly invites 
me to travel with him, and visit some of the societies. 
I feel an inclination to break one of my chains, 
parochial retirement, which may be a nest for self-in- 
dulgence. I leave the matter entirely to the Lord.'* 

H Mean time he mourned, not only for himself 
and his friends, but also for the church of God» 
H The few professors, says he, which I see in these 
parts are so far from what I wish them to be, that I 
cannot but cry out, Lord I how long wilt thou give 
thy heritage up to desolation ? How long shall the 
heathen say, Where isnoiv their (indwelling) God? 9 * 
In another letter he writes (dated May 8, 1776) « I see 
so little fruit in these parts, that I am almost disheart- 
ened. I am closely followed with the thought, that 
faith in the dispensation of the Spirit is at a very low 
ebb. But it may be better in other places. I shall 
be glad to travel a little, to see the goodriess of the 
land. May God make and keep ushumtylej loving, 
disinterested and zealous.' 5 



127 



" These quotations give us not only an example 
of holy mourning, but likewise of hungering and thirst- 
ing after righteousness. In this he was peculi- 
arly worthy our imitation. He never rested in any 
thing he had either experienced or done in spiritual 
matters. But this one thing he did : forgetting those 
things that were behind, and reaching forth unto those 
things which were before, he pressed toward the mark 
for the prize oft he high calling of Gc din Christ Jesus : he 
was a true christian racer, always on the stretch for 
higher and better things. Though his attainments, 
both in experience and usefulness, were above the 
common standard, yet the language of his conversa- 
tion and behaviour always was, Not as though I had 
already attained, either were already perfect ; but I 
follow after, if by any means I may apprehend that, 
for which I am apprehended of Christ Jesus. He had 
his eye upon a full conformity to the Son of God ; or 
what the apostle terms, The measure of the stature of 
the fullness of Christ. Nor could he be satisfied with 
any thing less. 

" And he was meek, like his Master, as well as 
lowly in heart. Not that he was so by nature, but of 
a fiery, passionate spirit. But so thoroughly had 
grace subdued nature, so fully was he renewed in the 
spirit of his mind, that for many years before his 
death, I believe he was never observed by any one, 
friend or foe, to be out of temper. And yet he did 
not want provocation, and that sometimes in a high 
degree: especially from those whose religious senti- 
ments he though* it hrs duty to oppose. One of 
these who once loved him so well, as to be ready to 



128 



pull out his eyes for him, was so exasperated on 
reading his second Check, that he wrote to him in 
the most bitter terms. But none of these things 
moved him : no not in the least degree. The keen- 
est word he used upon the occasion was, « What a 
world, what a religious world we live in V 9 

" Hence arose his readiness to bear with the weak- 
nesses, and forgive the faults of others : the more re- 
markable, considering his flaming zeal against sin, 
and deep concern for the glory of God. Such hat- 
red to sin, and such love to the sinner, I never saw 
joined together before. This very circumstance 
convinced me of the height of his grace, bearing so 
much of his Master's image, whose hatred to sin, 
and love to sinners are equally infinite. He took all 
possible pains to detect what was evil, in any of those 
that were under his care ; pursuing it through all 
its turnings and windings, and stripping it of all its 
disguises. Yet none so ready to excuse, w&gn it was 
confest, and to conceal it, even from his Jpost inti- 
mate friends. V 

a He never mentioned the faults of an absent per- 
son, unless absolute duty required it. And then he 
spoke with the utmost tenderness, extenuating rather 
than aggravating. None could draw his picture 
more exactly than St. Paul has done, in the thir- 
teenth of the first epistle to the Corinthians. Every 
feature in that masterly piece of apostolic painting 
was found in him. Let all that knew him, especially 
his intimate friends, recollect the spirit and beha- 
viour of this servant of the God of love ; and then let 



129 



them judge whether I exaggerate when I say, He 
suffered long and was kind : he envied not : acted not 
rashly ; was not puffed up, : did not behave himself un- 
seemly j sought not his ovjii, was not easily provok- 
ed. He thought no evil, rejoiced not in iniqidty, but 
rejoiced in the truth. He covered all things, believed 
all things, hoped all things, and endured all things. It 
would be easy to enlarge on all these particulars, and 
shew how they were exemplified in him. But wav- 
ing this, I would only observe, that with regard to two 
of them, kindness to others, and not seeking his own^ 
he had few equals. His kindness to others was 
such, that he bestowed his all upon them : his time, 
his talents, his substance. His knowledge, his elo- 
quence, his health, his money, were employed day 
by day for the good of mankind. He prayed, he 
wrote, he preached, he visited the sick and well, he 
conversed, he gave, he laboured, he suffered, winter 
and summer, night and day : he endangered, nay, 
destroyed his health, and in the end gave his life 
also for the profit of his neighbours, that they might 
be saved from everlasting death. He denied him- 
self even such food as was necesseiry for him, that 
he might have to give them that had none. And 
when he was constrained to change his manner of 
living, still his diet was plain and simple. And so 
were his clothing and furniture, that he might save 
all that was possible for his poor neighbours. 

<( He sought not his own in s?ny sense, not his 
own honour, but the honour of God in all that he said 
or did : he sought not his own interest, but the in- 
terest of his Lord, spreading knowledge, holiness, 



1 



and happiness as far as he possibly could. He 
sought not his own pleasure, but studied to please all 
men, for their good to edification: and to please him 
that ad called him to his kingdom and glory. And 
yet it is certain, he found the greatest pleasure, in 
pleasing God and his neighbour. For nothing could 
give an higher delight than this, to his pious and 
benevolent mind. 

" In the mean time he was a man of peace, and 
spared no pains to restore it where it was broken.... 
He gave numberless proofs of this amiable disposi- 
tion. " When we were at Trevecka (to mention 
but one instance) two of the students were bitterly 
prejudiced against each other. He took them into 
a room by themselves, reasoned with them, wept 
over them, and at last prevailed. Their hearts were 
broken ; they were melted down : they fell upon 
each other's neck and wept aloud." 

" The pains which he took to make peace at the 
Leeds conference, will not easily be forgotten. And 
although he could not prevail so fkr as might have 
been desired, yet his labour was not in vain. 

" But I do not attempt his full character, I will 
only add, what the apostle recommends to the Philip- 
pians, was exactly copied by him. He was blame- 
less and harmless, a son of God, without rebuke, in the 
midst of a crooked and perverse generation : shining a- 
mong them as a light in the world" 

17. I think one talent wherewith God had endu- 
ed Mr. Fletcher, has not been sufficiently noted yet. 



131 



I mean his cenrtesy ; in which there was not the 
least touch either of art or affectation. It was pure 
and genuine, and sweetly constrained him to behave 
to every one, (although particularly to inferiors) in 
a manner not to be described : with so inexpressible 
a mixture of humility, love, and respect. This di- 
rected his words, the tone of his voice, his looks, his 
whole attitude, his very motion. This seems to be 
intended by St» Paul, in those words : ouk achemonei. 
Not so well expressed in our translation by, behav- 
eth not itself unseemly. Do net the words literal- 
ly mean, is not ill-bred ? Behaves on all Occasions 
w r ith decency and good-breeding I Certainly so did 
Mr. Fletcher. Never did any man more perfectly 
suit his whole behaviour to the persons and the oc- 
casion. So that one might apply to him with great 
propriety the words of the antient poet : 

Ilium quicquid agit, quoquo vestigia tendit 
Componit furtim subsequiturq : Decor. 

I cannot translate this : but I can give the English 
reader a parallel, and more than a parellel. 

Grace was in all his steps, heaven in his eye, 
In all his gestures sanctity and love. 



G H A P. X. 



His Death. 

«< SOME time before he was taken ill, (says Mrs. 
Fletcher) he mentioned -to me a peculiar manifesta- 
tion of love, which he received in his own house, with 
the application of those words, Thou shalt walk with 
me in white. He added, it is not a little thing, so to 
hang upon God by faith, as to feel no departure from 
him, and no rising in the heart against him. But 
this does not satisfy me. I often feel something far 
beyond this. Yea, I sometimes find such gleams of 
light and love, such wafts, as it were of the heavenly 
air ! so powerful as if they would just then take my 
soul with them to glory. But lam not filled. I want 
to be filled, with all the fulness of God. In conformity 
to these sentiments, when he was in his last illness, he 
expressed himself thus, " lam filled^ most sweetly fil- 
led." This conveyed much to my mind, as I under- 
stood by it the accomplishment of his large desires. 

" Some time before the beginning of his last sick- 
ness, he was peculiarly penetrated with the nearness 
of eternity. There was scarce an hour in which he 
was not calling upon us, to drop every thought and 
every care, that we might attend to nothing, but the 
drinking deeper into God. We spent much time in 
wrestling with God, and were led in a peculiar man- 
ner, to abandon our whole selves, our souls and bodies 
into the hands of God ; ready to do, and willing to 
suffer whatever was well pleasing to him. 



u And now the time drew near, when his faith 
was to be called to its last grand exercise ; that, eye- 
ing his Lord, he might 

True in the fiery trial prove, 
And pay him back his dying love. 

A little before, being on his knees in prayer for ligh t 
whether he should go to London 01 not ? The an- 
swer to him seemed to be, " Not to London, but to 
thy grave." When he acquainted me with this, he 
said, with a heavenly smile, " Satan would represent 
it to me as something dreadful, enforcing those words, 
The cold gravel the cold gravel" On the Sunday 
following (I think it was the next day) that anthem 
was sung in the church, The Lord is my shepherd ; 
therefore can I lack nothing. He shall feed me in green, 
pastures, and lead me forth beside the maters of com- 
fort. He shall convert my s-qhI, and bring me forth hi 
the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, 
though I walk through the valley of the shadow of 
death, I shall fear no evil: for thou art with me : thy 
rod and thy staff shall comfort me. Thau shalt pre- 
pare a table before me, against them that trouble me* 
Thou hast anointed my head with oily and my cup shall 
be full. 

" In his return home* he observed in how uncom- 
mon a degree those words had been blest t® his souk 
And from that very time, I do not remember to have 
seen in him the least marks of temptation. He 
shewed an unusual cheerfulness arid liveliness in 

every part of his work ; and seemed to increase in 
u 



134 

strength of body as well as in strength of soul. Tru- 
ly it was to him according to his faith. He feared 
no evil. And his cufi was filled with righteousness 
and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost. 

" On Thursday, August 4, he was employed in 
the work of Cod from three in the afternoon till nine 
at night. When he came home, he said, " I have 
taken cold but seemed not to regard it. He was 
far from well on Friday and Saturday ; but was un- 
commonly drawn out in prayer. On Saturday 
night he was abundantly worse, and his fever appear- 
ed very strong. I begged that he would by no means 
think of going to church in the morning. But he 
told me, it was the will of the Lord : in which case 
I never dcired to persuade. In reading prayers he 
was very near fainting away. I got through the 
crowd, and entreated him to come out of the desk. 
But he let me and others know, in his sweet man- 
ner, That we were not to interrupt the order of God- 
I then silently retired to my pew, where all around 
me were in tears. When the windows were opened, 
by which he appeared to be a little refreshed, he 
went on : and then preached, with a strength and re- 
collection, that surprized us all. 

K After sermon he walked up to the commu- 
nion-table, uttering these words, " I am going to 
throw myself under the wings of the cherubim, be- 
fore the mercy-seat.' 5 The service lasted till near 
two. Sometimes he was constrained to stop ; being 
hardly able to stand upon his feet. The people were 
deeply affected, which they were not able to conceal : 



135 



groans and weeping were on every side. Gracious 
Lord ! How was it my soul was kept so cairn, in the 
midst of the most tender feelings. Notwithstanding 
his extreme weakness, he gave out several vei ses of 
hymns, and lively sentences of exhortation. As soon 
as ever^the service was over, we hurried him to bed. 
When he lay down, nature being quite exhausted, 
he immediately fainted away. Pie afterwards dropt 
into a sleep for some time, and on waking, cried out 
with a pleasant smile, " Now, my dear, thou seebt I 
am no worse for doing the Lord's work. He never 
fails me when I trust in him. 55 Having eat a little 
dinner, he dozed most of the evening: now and then 
waking, with the praises of God in his mouth. At 
nig~ht his fever returned : but it was not violent ; and 
yet his strength decreased amazingly. On Monday 
and Tuesday we had a little paradise together. He 
lay on a couch in the study : and though often' chang- 
ing posture, was sweetly pleasant, and frequently 
slept a good while together. When he was awake, 
he delighted in hearing me read hymns, and treatises 
en faith and love. His words were all animating, 
and his patience beyond expression. When he had 
a very nauseous medicine to take, he seemed to en- 
joy the cross^: according to a word, which he was 
used often to repeat. We are to seek a perfect con- 
formity to the will of God ; and leave him to give us 
pleasure or pain, as it seemeth him good. 55 

f< I asked him, Whether he had any advice to 
leave me, if he should be taken from me ? He repli- 
ed, " I have nothing particular to say : the Lord will 
open all before thee." 1 said. Have you any convic- 



135 



lion that God is about to take you ? He said,- " No ; 
not in particular. Only I always sec death so inex- 
pressibly near, that we both seem to stand on the 
verge of eternity." While he slept a little, I besought 
the Lord, if it was his good pleasure, to spare him to- 
me a little longer. But my prayer seemed to have 
no wings : and I could not help mingling therewith, 
Lord, give me perfect resignation ! This uncertain- 
ty made me tremble, lest God was going to put into 
my hands the bitter cup with which he lately threat- 
ened my husband. Some weeks before, I myself 
was ill of a fever, and noj without danger. My hus- 
band then felt the whole parting scene, and strug- 
gled for perfect resignation. He said, " O Polly I 
shall I ever see the day, when thou must be carried 
out to bury ? How will the little things which thy 
tender care has prepared for me, in every part of 
the house, wound and distresss me ? How is it ? I 
think I feel jealousy! I am jealous of the worms! 
I seem to shrink at the thought of giving- my dear 
Polly to the worms.' * 

" Now all these reflections returned upon my 
heart, with the weight jof a mill-stone. I cried to the 
Lord, and these words were deeply impressed on my 
spirit, Where I am* there shall my servants be, that 
they may behold my glory. This promise was full of 
comfort to my soul. I saw that in Chrises immedi- 
ate presence was our home, and that we should have 
our re -union, in being deeply centered in him. I re- 
ceived it as a fresh marriage for eternity : as such I 
trust forever to hold it. All that day, whenever I 
thought of the expression, to behold my glory , it seem* 



137 



ed to wipe away every tear, and was as the ring where- 
by we were joined anew. 

" Awaking sometime after, he said, " Pclly, I 
have been thinking it was Israel's fault that they ask- 
ed for signs. We will not do so ; but abandoning 
our whole selves to the will of God,' will lie patiently 
before him ; assured that he will do all things well. 55 

My dear love, said I, if ever I have done or said 
any thing to grieve thee, how will the remembrance 
wound my heart, if thou should be taken from me ? 
He intreated me with inexpressible tenderness, not 
to allow the thought, declaring his thankfulness for 
our union, in a variety of words written on my heart, 
aswith the adamantine pen of friendship deeply dipt in 
blood. 

" On Wednesday, after groaning all day long, un- 
der the weight of the power of God, he told me, he 
had received such a manifestation of the full mean- 
ing of those words, God is love, as he could never be 
able to express. " It fills my heart, said he, every 
moment. O Polly, my dear Polly, God is love I 
Shout ! shout aloud ! I want a gust of praise to go 
to the ends of the earth ! But it seeerns as if I could 
not speak much longer, Let us fix on a sign between 
ourselves. Now, said he, (tapping me twice with his 
finger) I mean, God is love. And we will draw each 
other into God. Observe ! By this we will draw 
each other into God." 

" Sally coming in, he cried out, " O Sally, God is 
iove 1 Shout both of you ! I want to hear you shc-ut 
m 2 



138 



his praise 1" All this time the medicinal friend, who 
attended him diligently, hoped he was in no danger : 
as he had no head-ach, but must sleep without the 
least delirium, and an almost regular pulse. So was 
the disease, though commissioned totake his life, re- 
strained by the power of God. 

" On Thursday his speech began to fail. While 
he was able he spoke to all that Game in his way. 
Hearing that a stranger was in the house, he ordered 
her to be called up. But the uttering only two sen- 
tences made him ready to faint away. And while 
he had any power of speech* he would not be silent to 
his friendly Doctor. " O Sir, said he, you take much 
thought for my body : permit me to take thought 
for your soul l J> When I could scarce understand any 
thing he said, I spoke these words, God is love. 
Instantly, as if all his powers were awakened, he 
broke x>iit in a rapture, " God is love ! love ! love 1 O 

for that gust of praise I I want to sound 1 ..Here 

his voice again failed. All this time he was in much 
pain, and suffered many ways: but still with such 
unutterable patience, as none but those that were pre- 
sent can conceive. If I did but name his sufferings, 
he would smile and make, the sigm 

" On Friday, observing his body covered with 
spots, I felt a sword pierce through my soul. As I 
was kneeling by his side, with my hand in his, in- 
treating the Lord to be with us in this tremendous 
hour ; he strove to say many things, but could not 
articulate the words. All he could do was to press 
my hand and frequently repeat the sign. At last Ire 



139 



breathed out, Head of the church, be head to my 
wife »" 

When I was forced to leave him, for a few mo- 
ments, Sally said to him, My dear muster, do you 
know me ? He replied, " God will put his right-hand 
under you." She added, O my dear master, should 
you be taken away, what a disconsolate creature will 
my poor, dear mistress be ! He replied, " God will 
be her all in all !" 

He always took a peculiar pleasure in repeating 
or hearing those word, 

Jesu's love through earth and skies, 
Mercy, free, boundless mercy cries. 

Whenever I repeated them to him, he would answer^ 
" Boundless I boundless! boundless!" He now ad- 
ded, though not without much difficulty, 

Mercy's full power I soon shall prove 9 
Lov'd with an everlasting love. 

" On Saturday in the afternoon, his fever seemed 
quite off, and a few friends standing near his bed, he 
reached his hand to each: and looking on a minister, 
said," Are you* ready to assist to-morrow I* 9 His re- 
collection surprized us, as the day of the week had 
not been named in the room. Many were of opi- 
nion he would recover*: and one of them said to him, Do 
you think the Lord will raise you up ? He strove to 
answer^ and could just pronounce," Raise me up ia 



140 



the res\irr. , \..;Meaning the resurrection. To ano- 
ther who asked the same question, he said, u I leave 
it all to God." 

" In the evening the fever came again, and with 
greater violence than ever. The mucus then falling 
on his throat, almost strangled him. It was suppos- 
ed, the same painful sympto-m would grow more and 
more violent to the last. As I felt this exquisitely, I 
cried to the Lord to remove it. And glory be to his 
name, he didi From that time it returned no more. 

As night drew on, I perceived him dying very 
fast. His fingers could hardly make the sign, which 
he scarce ever forgot: and his speech seemed quite 
gone. I said, My dear creature, I ask not for my- 
self : I know thy soul : but for the sake of others, if 
Jesus is very present with thee, lift up thy right hand. 
Immediately he did. If the prospect of glory sweet- 
ly opens before thee, repeat the sign. He instantly 
raised it again, and in half a minute, a second time. 
He then threw- it up, as if he would reach the top of 
the bed. After this, his hands moved no more. But 
on my saying, Art thou in pain ! he answered, " No." 
From this time he lay in a kind of sleep, though 
with his eyes opened and ftxt. For the most part he 
sat upright, against pillows, with his head a little in- 
clining to one side. And so remarkably composed, 
L yea triumphant was his countenance, that the least 
>trace of death was scarce discernable in it. Twenty- 
four hours he was in this situation, breathing like a 
person in common sleep. About thirty-five minutes 
past ten, on Sunday night, Aug. 14>his precious soul 



\4t 



entered into the joy of his Lord, without one struggle 
or groan, in the fifty -sixth year of his age. 

" And here I break off my mournful story : but 
on my bleeding heart, the fair picture of hi s h eavenly ex- 
cellencies will be for ever drawn. When I call to mind 
his ardent zeal, his laborious endeavours to seek and 
save the lost, his diligence in the employment of his 
time, his Christ-like condescention toward me, and 
his uninterrupted converse with heaven : I may well 
be allowed to add, my loss is beyond the power of 
words to paint. I have often gone througfrdeep wa- 
ters ; but all my afflictions were nothing to this. Well i 
I want no pleasant prospect hut upwards : nor any 
thing whereon to fix my hope, but immortality. 

" From the time I have had the happiness and 
honour of being with him, every day more and more 
convinced me, he was the christian. I saw, I loved 
in him, the image' of my Saviour, and thought my- 
self the happiest of women, in the possession of the 
most sympathizing and heavenly friend. My sorrow 
bears a due proportion. But it is alleviated by that 
thought, Untied in God we cannot be divided. No : 
we are of one houshold still : we are joined in him 
as our center ; of whom the whole family in heaven 
and earth is named. It is said of New-Testament be- 
lievers, they are come to the spirits cf just men made 
perfect : to the glorious privilege of communion with 
the church triumphant. But this is far more appa- 
rent to the eyes of celestial spirits, than to ours, 
which are yet veiled with flesh and blood. Yet as 
there is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth. 



142 

and as the prayers or saints still on earth are repre- 
sented by incense in the hands of the eiders, I can on- 
ly consider departed spirits, and ministering angels, 
as one innumerable company, continually surround- 
ing us. And are they not as nearly united to their 
fellow-soldiers now, as when they were in the body ? 
What should hinder ? Gratitude and affection are na- 
tives of heaven, and live for ever there, Forgetful- 
ness is a property of mortality, and drops off with the 
body. Therefore they that loved us in the Lord, 
will surely love us for ever : can any thing material 
interrupt the light or presence of a spirit ? Nay, 

Walls within walls no more the passage bar. 
Than unopposing space of liquid air. 

<{ On the 17th, his remains were deposited in 
Madeley church -yard, amidst the tears and lamenta- 
tions of thousands. The service was performed by 
the Rev. Mr. Hatton, rector of Waters-Upton, whom 
God enabled to speak in a pathetic manner to the 
weeping flock. In the conclusion, at my request, he 
read the following paper. 

" As it was the desire of my beloved husband to 
be buried in this plain manner, so out of tenderness, 
he begged that I might not be present. And in 
every thing I would obey him. 

" Permit me then, by the mouth of a friend, to 
bear an open testimony, to the glory of God, that I 
who have known him in the most perfect manner, am 
constrained to declare, that I never knew any o^e 



143 



walk so closely in the ways of God as he did. The 
Lord gave him a conscience tender as the apple of an 
eve. And he literally preferred the interest of every 
one to his own. 

" He was rigidly just, and perfectly loose from 
attachment to the world. He shared his all with the 
poor, who lay so close to his heart, that at the ap- 
proach of death, when he could not speak without 
difficulty, he cried out, " O my floor I What will be- 
-come of my poor I" He was blest with so great a de- 
gree of humility, as is scarce to be found. I am 
witness how often he has rejoiced, in being treated 
with contempt. Indeed it seemed the very food of 
iiis soul, to be little and unknown. 

" His zeal for souls I need not tell you. Let the 
labours of twenty-five years, and a martyr's death in - 
the conclusion, imprintit on your hearts. His diligent 
visiting the sick ocsasioned his fever, which by God's 
commission tore him from you and me. And his ve- 
hement desire to take his last leave of you with dying 
lips and hands, gave (it is supposed) the finishing 
stroke, by preparing his blood for putrefaction. Thus 
has he lived and died your servant. And will any 
one of you refuse to meet him at God's right-hand in 
that day ? 

" He walked with death always in sight. About 
two months ago, he came to me and said, a My dear 
love, I know not how it is, but I have a strange im- 
pression, death is near us, as if it were to be some 
sudden stroke upon one of us. And it draws out all 



144 



my soul in prayer, that we may be ready. 55 He then 
broke out, " Lord prepare the soul thou wilt call ! 
And O ! stand by the poor disconsolate one that shall 
be left behind !" 

" A few days before his departure, he was filled 
with love in an uncommon manner. The same he 
testified as long as he had a voice, and continued to 
the end, by a most lamb-like patience, in which he 
smiled over death, and set his last seal to the glorious 
truths he had so long preached among you. 

" Three years, nine months and two days, I have 
possessed my heavenly- minded husband. But now 
the sun of my earthly joys is set forever, and my soul 
filled with an anguish, which only finds its consola- 
tion, in a total resignation to the will of God. When 
I was asking the Lord, if he pleased to spare him to me 
a little longer, the following promise was imprest on 
my mind, Where I am, there shall my servants be, 
that they may behold my glory. Lord, hasten the 
time !" 

18. There is little need of adding any farther cha- 
racter of this man -of God, to the foregoing account, 
given by one who wrote out of the fullness of her 
heart. I would only observe, That for many years I 
despaired of finding any inhabitant of Great Britain, 
that could stand in any degree of comparison with 
Gregory Lopez, or Monsieur de Renty. But let 
any impartial person judge, if Mr. Fletcher was at 
all inferior to them ? Did he not experience as deep 
communion with God, and as high a measure of in- 



145 



ward holiness, as was experienced by either one or 
the other of those burning and shining lights ! And 
it is certain, his outward light shone before men, 
with full as bright a lustre as theirs. But if any 
would draw a parallel between them, there are two 
circumstances, which would be well observed. One 
is, we are not assured that the writers of their lives 
did not extenuate, if not suppress their faults. And 
some faults we are assured there were, namely, 
seme touches of superstition, and some of idolatry, as 
the worship of images, angels and saints, the Virgin 
Mary in particular. But I have not suppressed, or 
even extenuated any thing in Mr. Fletcher's life. In- 
deed I know nothing that needed to be extenuated, 
much less to be suppressed. A second circumstance is. 
That the writers oi their lives, couid not have so full 
a knowledge of them, as I, and much more Mrs. 
Fletcher, had,being eye and ear- witnesses of his whole 
conduct. ...Consequently tve knew that his life was not 
sullied with any taint of idolatry or superstition. I was 
intimately acquainted with him for thirty years. I 
conversed with him morning, noon and night, with- 
out the least reserve, during a journey of many hun- 
dred miles. And in ail that time, I never heard him 
speak an improper word, or saw him do an improper 
action. To conclude. Within fourscore years, I have 
known many excellent men, holy in heart and life. 
But one equal to him I have not known; one so 
uniformly and deeply devoted to God. So un- 
blameable a man in every respect, I have not fouwd 
either in Europe or America. Nor do I expect to 
find another such on this side eternity, 

N 



146 



Yet it is possible nve may be such as he was...* 
Let us then endeavour to follow him as he followed 
Christ. 

THE END. 



p£ OEpitapf). 

Here lies the body of 
The Rev. JOHN WILLIAM de la FLECHERE, 
Vicar of Madeley, 
Who was born at Nyon in Switzerland^ 
September the 12th, 1729, 
And finished his course, August the 14th, 1785, 
In this village, 
Where his unexampled labours 
Will never be forgotten. 
He exercised the ministry for the spaoe of 
Twenty-five years 
In this parish, 
With uncommon zeal and ability. 
But though many believed his report, 
Yet he might with justice have adopted 
The lamentation of the Prophet, 
" All the day long have I stretched out my hands 
Unto a disobedient and gainsaying people : 
Yet surely my Judgment is with the Lord, 
And my work with my God." 



AN 

ACCOUNT 



OF THE 

REV. JOHN FLETCHER, 
BY THE REV. JOSHUA GILPIN, 

VICAR OF MOCK WA ED INS* 



TO THE READER, 



When I first undertook the translation of that 
-valuable work, the Portrait of St. Paul, from a French 
manuscript of the late Rev. John William de la Flee- 
ter e, it was the dedre of several resfiec table persons, that 
it should come out accomfiahied with some account 
of the truly venerable author. That such an ac- 
count might be generally interesting and beneficial^ 
J was fully persuaded ; but a consciousness of my in- 
ability for such an undertaking disposed me rather to 
decline engaging in it. At lengthy overcome by the re- 



148 



peated intreaties of my friends, I determined , as far as 
possible, to comply with their wishes j not, indeed, by 
writing a comjtlete life of the late Reverend J. TV. de 
la Flee here, but by subjoining biographical notes to se- 
veral of the most principal traits in the moral character 
of St. Paul. A%t long, however, after this determina- 
tion was made public, some memoirs of his life were 
collected and published by ( the Rev. John Wesley ) a 
man of uncommon eminence in the christian world...* 
Some parts of this work I read with much satisfaction, 
and particularly those pages which were furr.Uhed by 
Mr. Benson, who seems perfectly to have understood 
the character he endeavoured to exhibit. Here I should 
have dropt my design as entirely useless, had not seve- 
ral of the author's most esteemed friends insisted, that 
I should proceed upon my prop os§d plan : in conse- 
quence of whose earnest solicitations, the following notes 
are offered as a khtd of supplement to the account, thai 
has already appeared. 



NOTE I. 

His early Piety, 

THIS eminent minister was born at Nyon in 
Switzerland in the year 1729, and was the youngest 
son of Colonel de la Flechere, whose family is one of 
the most respectable in the Canton of Berne, and a 
branch of an earldom of Savoy. He passed the ear- 
ly pat t of his life at Nyon, where he soon discovered 
an elevated turn of mind, accompanied with an unusual 



degree of vivacity. After having made a good pro- 
ficiency in school learning, he was removed with his 
two brothers to Geneva, where he was distinguished 
equally by his superior abilities, and his uncommon 
application. The two first prizes, for which he stood 
a candidate, he carried away from a number of com- 
petitors, several of whom were nearly related to the pro- 
fessors : and on these occasions he was compliment- 
ed by his superiors in a very flattering manner. Dur- 
ing his residence at this place, he allowed himself 
but little time, either for recreation, refreshment, or 
rest. After confining himself closely to his studies 
all the day, he would frequently consume the greater 
part of the night in noting down whatever had occur- 
red, in the course of his reading, peculiarly worthy 
of observation. Here he acquired that true classical 
taste, which was so frequently and' justly admired by 
his intimate friends, and which all his studied plain- 
ness could never conceal. Here also he laid the foun- 
dation of that extensive and accurate knowledge, for 
which he was afterwards distinguished, both in philo- 
sophical and theological researches. After quitting 
Geneva, he was sent by his father to Lentzbourg, a 
sm?lltown in the Swiss Cantons, where he not only 
acquired the German language, but diligently prose- 
cuted his other studies, to which he ever discovered 
a passionate attachment. On his return from this 
place, he continued some time at home, studying the 
Hebrew language, and perfecting his acquaintance 
with mathematical learning. 

His early piety was equally remarkable with 
his early attainments. From his childhood he was 
? n 2 



impressed with a deep sense of the majesty of God, 
and a constant fear of offending him. His early ac- 
quaintance with the Holy scriptures guarded him, on 
the one hand, from the snares of infidelity, and preser- 
ved him, on the other, from many of the vices pecu- 
liar to youth. His conversation was modest, and his 
whole conduct marked with a degree of rectitude not 
usually to be found in early life. He manifested an 
extraordinary turn for religious mediation; and those 
little productions which gained him the greatest ap- 
plause, at this early period, were chiefly of a serious 
tendency. His filial obedience and his brotherly af- 
fection \rere exemplary ; nor is it remembered, that 
he ever uttered one unbecoming expression in either 
of those characters. He was a constant reprover of 
sin ; and his modest freedom in this respect is said 
once to have offended a mother, whom he tenderly 
loved. While she was, on some occasion, express- 
ing herself in too warm a manner to one of the fami- 
ly, he turned his eye upon her with a gentle reproof. 
She was displeased with the modest reprehension, 
and repaid it with some severity, which he received 
with the utmost submission, making only the follow- 
ing reply ; When I am smitten on c?ze cheek, and es- 
pecially by a hand I love so well, I am taught to turn 
the other also. Tins expression was not employed 
with an heir of brevado, but with a iook of so much 
tender affection, that the indignation of his mother 
was instantly turned into a look of pleasing admira- 
tion. 

Those who are set apart by God for emi- 
nent services in his church, are frequently distin- 



151 



guished, in the early part of their lives, by striking 
peculiarities, which awaken in all around them an ex- 
pectation of something extraordinary in their future 
character. Of this kind was the following circum- 
stance. During the early part of M. de la Flech- 
ere'3 residence at Geneva, his sister, Madame de Bo- 
tens, who had taken a house in that city for the con- 
venience of her brothers, was visited by a widow lady 
from Nyon, This lady was accompanied by her 
three sons, who were not the most happily disposed 5 
and whose improper conduct at this time provoked 
her to so uncommon a degree, as to extort from her 
a hasty imprecation. Our pious young student was 
presentupon this occasion, and so struck was he with 
the unnatural carriage of this exasperated mother? 
that, instantly starting from his chair, he addressed 
her in a very powerful remonstrance, From the fol- 
lowing scripture, Parents^ provoke net your chil- 
dren^ Ifc. he reasoned with her in an affecting and 
pointed manner. He observed and lamented the dif- 
ficulties of her situation ; but intreated her to strug- 
gle against them with discretion, and not with impa- 
tience. He exhorted her to educate her children in 
the fear of God, and to second such education* by her 
own pious example. And after assuring her, that 
her conduct, on the present occasion had filled him 
with the utmost horror, and that he could not but 
tremble for the consequences of it, he concluded his 
address by alarming her fears, lest the imprecation 
she had uttered should be followed by some unexpect- 
ed family affliction. That same day the widow, in 
her return to Nyon, embarked upon the lake, where 
she was overtaken with a tremendous storm, ajxl 



152 



'brought to the very point of perishing. In the 
midst of Jhjer danger, the words of her young prophet, 
as she ever afterwards termed M. de la Flechere, 
were deeply impressed upon her mind. But they 
shortly returned upon her in a more forcible man- 
ner, with ike melancholy intelligence, that two of 
her sons were lost upon the lake, and the third crush- 
ed to death at one of the gates of Geneva. At this 
time our author was not more than fourteen years 
of age. 



NOTE II. 

His Christian Piety, 

NOTWITHSTANDING the early piety of 
M. de la Flechere, of Which such honorable mention 
has been made in the preceding note, it appears that 
he continued, for a long course of time, a perfect 
stranger to the true nature of Christianity. He was 
naturally of a high and ambitious turn, though his 
ambition was sufficiently refined for religious as well 
as scientific pursuits. He aspired after rectitude, and 
"was anxious to possess every moral perfection. He 
counted much upon the dignity of human nature, and 
was ambitious to act in a manner becoming his ex- 
alted ideas of that dignity. And here he out-stripped 
the multitude in an uncommbn degree. He was ri- 
gidly just in his dealings, and inflexibly true to his 
word ; he was a strict observer of his several duties 
in every relation of life ; his sentiments were liberal* 



153 



ahd his charity profuse ; he was prudent in his con- 
duct, and courteous in his deportment ; he was a dili- 
gent enquirer after truth, and a strenuous advocate 
for virtue ; he was frequent in ~sacred mediations, 
and was a regular attendant at public worship. Pos- 
sessed of so many moral accomplishments, while he 
was admired by his friends, it is no wonder, that 
he should cast a look of self-complacency upon his 
character, and consider himself, with respect to 
his attainments in virtue, abundantly superior to the 
common herd of mankind. But while h& was taken 
up in congratulating himself upon his own fancied 
eminence in piety, he was an absolute stranger to that 
unfeigned sorrow for sin, which is the first step to- 
ward the kingdom of God. It was not till after he 
had resided some time in England, that he became 
experimentally acquainted with the nature of true re- 
pentance. By what particular providence he was led 
to a minute investigation of his own heart, or at what 
particular time, cannot be easily ascertained ; but 
we have ample testimony, that in his twenty-sixth 
year his knowledge of himself was as solid, as it had 
been formerly sufierJiciaL In that year he address- 
ed an epistle to his brother on the subject of internal 
religion, where, after insisting on the vanity of every 
earthly pursuit,, he gives the following description of 
the change that had taken place in his own mind. 
" I speak from experience. I have been successive- 
11 ly deluded by all those desires, which I here so sin- 
w cerely reprobate ; and sometimes I have been the 
w sport of them allatonce. This will appear incredible, 
" except to those who have discovered, that the heart 
" of unre generate man is nothing more than a chaos 



154 

of obscurity, and a mass of contradictions. If you 
have any acquaintance with yourself, you will rea- 
dily subscribe to this description of the human 
heart : and if you are without this acquaintance, 
then rest assured, my dear brother, that whatever 
your pursuit may be, you are as far from true hap- 
piness as the most wretched of men. The meteor 
you are following still flies before you; frequently 
it disappears, and never shews itself but to allure 
you to the brink of some unlooked-for precipice. 
Every unconverted man must necessarily come 
under one or .other of the following descriptions.... 
He is either a voluptuary y a worldly minded per son, 
or a Pharisaical philosopher ; or, perhaps, like my- 
self, he may be all of these at the same time : and, 
what is still more extraordinary, he may be so, not 
only without believing, but even without once sus- 
\ getting it. Indeed, nothing is more common a- 
; mong men, than an entire blindness to their own 
real characters. How long have I placed my hap- 
piness in mere chimeras i How often have I 
; grounded my vain hopes upon imaginary founda- 
; tions ! I have been constantly employed in fram- 
: ing designs for my own felicity ; but my dis- 
: appointments have been as frequent and various as 
my projects. In the midst of my idle reveries, 
: how often have I said to myself, 6 Drag thy weary 
1 feet but to the summit of yonder eminence, a situ- 
6 ation beyond which the world has nothing to pre- 
< sent more adequate to thy wishes, and there thou 
1 shalt sit down in a state of repose.' On my arrival, 
; however, at the spot proposed, a sad discovery has 
; taken place. ...The whole scene has appeared more 



155 

" barren than the valley I had quitted ; and the point 
" of happiness, which I lately imniagined it possible 
" to have touched with my finger, has presented it- 
u self at a greater distance than ever. 

61 If hitherto, rny dear brother, you have beguil- 
" ed yourself with prospects of the same visionary 
" nature, never expect to be more successful in your 
" future pursuits. One labour will only succeed an- 
M other, making way for continual discontent and cha- 
" grin. Open your heart and there you will disco- 
" ver the source of that painful inquietude, to which, 
" by your own confession, you have been long a prey. 
" Examine its secret recesses, and you will discover 
M there, sufficient proofs of the following truths.... The 
" heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately 
" wicked. All have sinned and come short of the glo- 
" ry of God. The thoughts of marts heart are only 
u evil, and that continually. The natural man under - 
" standeth not the things of the Spirit of God. On the 
a discovery of these, and other important truths, you 
" will be convinced that man is an apostate. being, 
u composed of a sensual rebellious body, and a soul 
" immersed in pride, self-love, and ignorance : nay 
" more, you vail perceive it a physical impossibility, 
" that man should ever become truly happy, till he 
" is ca;y., as it were, into a new mould, and created a 
« second time. For my own part, when I first be- 
« gan to know myself, i saw, \fdt that man is an uii- 
M defineable animal, partly of a bestial, and partly of 
a an infernal nature. This discovery shocked my 
" self-love, and filled me v/'^'i the utmost horror. I 
u endeavoured, for some time, to throw a palliating 



156 



u disguise over the wretchedness of my condition ; 
44 but the impression it had already made upon my 
K heart was too deep to be erased. It was to no 
u purpose that I reminded myself of the morality of 
" my conduct. It was in vain, that I recollected the 
44 many encomiums that had been passed upon my 
" early piety and virtue. And it was to little avail, 
k< that I sought to cast a mist before my eyes, by rea- 

44 sonings like these If conversion implies a total 

u change, who has been converted in these days ? 
44 Why dost thou imagine thyself worse than thou 
"really art? Thou art a believer in God, and in 
44 Christ ; thou art a christian ; thou hast injured no 
a person ; thou art neither a drunkard nor an adul- 
44 terer ; thou hast discharged thy duties, not only in 
44 a general way, but with more than ordinary ex- 
44 actness ; thou art a strict attendant at church ; thou 
44 art accustomed to pray more regularly than others, 
44 and frequently with a good degree of fervour ; 
44 make thyself perfectly easy : moreover, Jesus 
" Christ has suffered for thy sins, and his merit will 
44 supply every thing that is lacking on thy part. It 
44 was by reasonings of this nature, that I endear our- 
44 edto conceal from myself the deplorable state of my 
44 heart : and I am ashamed, my dear brother, I re- 
44 peat it, I am ashamed, that I suffered myself so 
44 long to be deluded by the artifices of satan, and the 
44 devices of my own heart. God himself has invit- 
44 ed me, a cloud of apostles, prophets, and martyrs 
44 have exhorted me, and my conscience, animated by 
44 those sparks of grace which are latent in every 
44 breast, has urged me to enter in at the strait gate: 
44 but, notwithstanding all this, a subtil tempter, a de- 



157 

hiding world, and a deceived heart, have constantly 
" turned the 'balance, for above these twenty years, in 
" favour of the broad way. I have passed the most 
" lovely part of my life in the service of those tyranni- 

cal masters, and am ready to declare in the face of the 
« universe, that all my reward has consisted in clisqui- 
<* etude and remorse. Happy, had I listened to the 
" earliest invitations of grace, and broken their iron 
# yoke from off my neck !" * 

The internal revolution, above described, may be 
said to have formed a grand epoch in the life of this 
valuable man. From this time his hopes and his 
fears, his desires and pursuits were totally changed. 
From the heigjist of self-exaltation, he sunk into the 
depths of selfr abhorrence : and from shining in the 
.foremost >--£anks of the virtuous, he placed himself on 
a level with the very chief of sinners. Conviction 
made way for unfeigned repentance, and repentance 
laid a solid foundation for christian piety. His sor„ 
row for sin was succeeded by a consciousness of the 
Almighty's favour, and the pangs of remorse gave 
way to the joy of remission. Relieving on Jesus, as 
the scripture hath said, he found in him a well of con- 
solation springing vp into everlasting life. All his 
wanderings were, at once, happily terminated, his 
doubts were removed, his tears were dried up, and he 
began to rejoice in hope of the glory of God* His 
conversion was not imaginary, but real It iv-t only 
influenced his s&nii aents, uui extended to his ecu- 



* I need, I think, make no excuse for having translat- 
ed so large a portion of this episrle, 

O 



158 



duct. Whom he had found a Saviour, he determined 
to follow as a guide : and so unalterable was this deter- 
mination, that from the very hour in which it was 
formed, it is not known, that he ever cast a wishful 
look behind him. A eloud of witnesses are ready to 
testify, that from his earliest acquaintance with the 
truths of the gospel, he continued to walk worthy of 
his high vocation, growing in grace, and adorning the 
doctrine of God our Saviour in all things. From this 
period of his life, he became truly exemplary for 
christian piety . But this piety was of too exalted a 
nature to admit of any adequate description. They 
who saw him only at a distance, revered him as a 
man of God ; while they who enjoyed a nearer ac- 
quaintance with him, were held in a state of constant 
admiration at his attainments in the divine life. He 
appeared to enjoy an uninterrupted fellowship with 
the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ. Every 
day was with him a day of solemn self-dedication, and 
every hour an hour of pr-aise or prayer. Naturally 
formed for pre-eminence, no common degrees of grace 
were sufficient to satisfy his unbounded desires. He 
towered above the generality of christians, earnestly 
d \edrtng the best gifts, and anxious to walk in the most 
excellent way. While others are content to taste the 
living stream, he traced that stream to its source, and 
lived at the fountain-head of blessedness. He was 
familiar with invisible objects, and constantly walked 
as in the presence of God. To those who were 
much conversant with him, he appeared as an inha- 
bitant of a better world : so perfectly dead was he to 
the enjoyments of the present life, and so wholly de- 
tached from its anxious cares. Wherever he was 



159 



called by the providence of God, he was acknow- 
ledged as a burning and shining light. The common 
lights of christians were eclipsed before him ; and 
even his spiritual friends could never stand in his pre- 
sence, without being overwhelmed with a conscious- 
ness of their own inferiority and unprofitableness. 
While they have seen him rising, as it were, upon 
the wings of an eagle, they have been confounded at 
their inability to pursue his Right ; and while he has 
given way to the emotions of his fervent love, they 
have blushed at their own ingratitude and lukewarm, 
ness. The candle of the Lord eminently shone upon 
his head, and the secret of God was ujion his taberna- 
cle. When he went out through the city, or took his 
seat in the company of the righteous, he was saluted 
with unusual reverence, and received as an angel of 
God. The young men saw him and hid themselves ; 
and the aged arose and stood up. Even those who 
were honored as princes among the people of God, 
refrained talking, and laid their handufiou their mouth. 
When the ear heard him, then it blessed him; and when 
the eye saw him, it gave witness to him. His 
character was free from those inconsistencies, which 
are too generally observable among the professors of 
Christianity. Whether he sat in the house, or whe- 
ther he walked by the way ; in his hours of retirement, 
and in his public labors, he was constantly actuated 
by the same spirit. When he spoke... .his conversa- 
tion was in heaven : and the hearts of his intimate 
friends still burn within them, on every recollection 
of the gracious words that proceeded out of his 
mouth. When he was silent ...his very air and 
countenance bespoke an angelic mind absorbed in 



2 GO 



the contemplation of God. When he was engaged 
in the ordinary actions of life, he performed them 
with such a becoming seriousness, that they assum- 
ed a striking and important appearance. In aSl 
the changing circumstances of life, he looked 
and acted like a man, whose treasure was laid up in 
heaven. There his affections were immovably fix- 
ed, and thitherward he was continually tending with 
all the powers of his soul : he spoke of it as the sub- 
ject of his constant meditation, and looked to it as 
travellers to their appointed home. At times, when 
the pious breathings of his soul were too forcible to 
be repressed, he would break forth into expressions 
of adoration among his spiritual associates, and cry 
u-.it, while tears of joy were bursting from his eyes..~ 
■My God ! My Saviour ! Thou art mine I a roretth 
unworthy of thy notice ! Yet thou hast visited me with 
■ hy mercy, and honoured me with thy favour I I adore 
thine unfathomable love ! Ye vjho have tasted of his 
grace j assist me to 'magnify Ms name. He was an in- 
strument always in tune : and none can tell, but those 
who have heard, how sweetly it would answer to the 
touch of him that strung it. He was an instrument 
of uncommon compass, and wonderously adapted to 
every occasion. Every breath that swept over the 
chords of this living lyre,drew from it some according 
sound : if from man it produced strains of affection 
and sympathy ; if from God, it called for higher 
sounds of gratitude and devotion. His piety suf- 
fered no event to pass by unimproved. Every ob- 
ject led him into the presence of God, and every oc- 
currence gave rise to a train of serious reflections. I 
shall close this note by relating an anecdote, which 



161 



may serve to illustrate this part of his character. Tra- 
velling some years ago with a friend through part of 
Italy, as they approached the Appian-way, he direct- 
ed the driver to stop before he entered upon It. He 
then ordered the chaise door to be opened assuring 
his fellow-traveller, that his heart would not suiter 
him to ride over that ground, upon which the apostle 
Paul had formerly walked chained to a soldier, on 
account of preaching the everlasting Gospel. As 
soon as he had set his foot upon this old Roman 
road, he took off his hat; and walking on, with his 
eyes lifted up to heaven, returned thanks to God, in 
a most fervent prayer, for that light, those truths, and 
that influence of the Holy Spirit, which were conti- 
nued to the present day. He rejoiced that England 
favoured with the Gospel in its purity ; and de- 
ly implored that Rome might again have the 
truths of that Gospel declared in those churches, 
which were disgraced with a worship little superior to 
that of ancient Athens. He then took a view of the 
exemplary life, the extensive travels, and astonishing 
labors, of the great apcstle. He recounted his suffer- 
ings when a prisoner, and his trials when at liberty; 
his rigid self-denial, and his voluntary poverty for the 
furtherance of the Gospel. He spoke of his painful 
ministry, and his violent persecutions, enlarging, with 
peculiar energy, upon his last journey from Jerusa- 
lem to Rome. He then ran over his experience . ..his 
faith, his, love, his abundant revelations, and his con- 
stant communion with the Lord Jesus Christ : de- 
monstrating that, without such communion, he could 
never have supported the sharp conflicts and repeated 
sufferingSjto which he was daily exposed. Here he ad- 
o 2 



verted to his own situation, with a degree cf gratitude 
that surpasses all description. What a miracle of 
mercy, said he, that a christian, hated and despised 
us he is by all men, is yet suffered to live : and that 
we, who desire to be such, can travel at this day un- 
molested among those, who abhor the truth as it is 
in Jesus. Their ancestors were stained with the 
blood of the innocent ; and was the Gospel to be pro- 
posed in its purity to the present generation, they 
would rush upon the preacher of it, as so many beasts 
of prey >if Ke, who restrained the lions from devour- 
ing Daniel, was not present to controul their destruc- 
tive zeal. These remarks were continued for a long 
time together, sweetly intermixed with occasional 
prayer and praise. He breathed nothing but devo- 
tion, and had he not been prevented by the presence 
of the driver, such were his feelings on treading this 
celebrated road, that he would certainly have acted 
like St. Paul, when he retired to the river side, where 
jvr:iyer was want to be made* 



NOTE III. 

His iniirr.ate union with Christ by faith. 

THE life of M. de la Flechere might, with the 
strictest propriety, be termed a life of faith. Thro* 
the whole of his christian pilgrimage he walked 
by faith, and not by right. By faith he embraced the 
truths of the Gospel, when they were first proposed 
to him in plainness and simplicity ; not barely admit- 



ting, but relying upon them with an entire confi- 
dence. By faith he relinquished the world, while it 
presented him with many a flattering prospect, choos- 
ing rather to suffer affliction with the people of God^ 
than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season. By 
faith he endured the displeasure of his friends, and 
patiently suffered their contradiction, esteeming the 
reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of 
the world, and having respect unto the recompense of 
reward. By faith he engaged himself in the chris- 
tian warfare, unmoved either by its difficulties or its 
dangers ; and by faith he endured to the end, as see- 
ing him who is invisible. Though his faith was al- 
ways increasing, yet, during his christian profession, 
there never was a time in which he was regarded as 
a man weak or wavering in the faith of the Gospel. 
On the contrary, he seems to have borne a strong 
resemblance to those two extraordinary characters, 
whose faith, upon their very first application to 
Christ, not only procured his approbation, but ap- 
peared to excite his astonishment. His faith was 
frequently put to the severest tests ; but, after being 
tried to the uttermost, it remained unshaken. He 
regarded the promises of God as the firm supports of 
this grace, nor was he ever seen to stagger at any of 
those promises through unbelief. If the promise was 
great and important ; if its full accomplishment was 
even doubted by his most esteemed fellow-labourers ; 
yet this holy man continued strong in faith, giving glo- 
ry to God : being fully persuach d that what he had 
promised, he was able also to perform. By tins migh- 
ty grace he engaged in the most difficult duties, <uul 



164 



saw many mountainous obstacles removed from his 
path. By this he was enabled to bear the heat and 
burden of the day : and by this, notwithstanding all 
the discouragements that could be thrown in his way, 
he went on from conquering to conquer. 

The nature of his faith was evidenced by the 
works it produced. He stood not as a cumber er of 
the ground in his master's vineyard ; but, like a tree 
planted by the water-side, he brought forth his fruit 
in due season. He stood as an humble representation 
of that tree of life, which grows by the river of Para- 
dise ; for in his fruit there was a wonderful variety, 
and every successive season was with him a season 
of spiritual plenty. He not only bore that delicate 
kind of fruit, which requires the sunshine of prosperi- 
ty ; but produced, with equal luxuriance, those hardi- 
er graces, which can only be matured by the rigours 
ef adversity. 

It is the privilege of every christian to be united 
to Christ ; that, as He and the Father are one, so his 
disciples may be one with their adorable master. This 
privilege, in its lowest sense, is inconceivably estima- 
ble in the church of Christ; but by this eminent 
servant of God it was enjoyed in a more than ordina- 
ry degree. His union with the blessed Jesus, 
answerable to the greatness of his faith, w\$ in - 
timate and constant. He experienced the fulfil- 
ment of that condescending promise ; If any man 
hear my voice, and o/ien the cfcor, 1 -mil come in to 
him* and sufi with him, and he with me : he obeyed the 
summons; and received the prpjnise4 visitant; and 



165 



from that time his heart became the dwelling-place 
of Christ. There he experienced the teachings of 
uncreated wisdom, and held ineffable communion with 
the author and finisher ofjaith^ imbibing abundantly 
the spirit of his divine instructor, and sitting under his 
shadow with great delight. By this sacred inter- 
course, continued from day to day, his union with 
Christ became so entire, that he was at length ena- 
bled to adopt the expressive declaration of the great 
apostle....i7iw:^ not I, but Christ livcth in me: &c. 

The strictness of this union was evinced by his 
whole disposition and carriage. The mind that was 
in Christ, was discovered also in him. He denied 
himself, he took up his cross, and trod in the foot- 
steps of his master. He cheerfully submitted to the 
yoke of Jesus, and was effectually taught, by his ex- 
ample, to be meek and lowly in heart. He breathed 
the language of universal benevolence, and copied 
the character of his Lord with so great exactness, 
that all men took knowledge of /rim y that he had been 
with Jesus. Fellowship with Christ is, with the gene- 
rality of christians, a state of much uncertainty, and 
subject to many changes ; but by this holy man 
it was well nigh uninterruptedly enjoyed, through all 
the different stages of the spiritual life. It was his 
consolation in the season of adversity, and his glory 
In the day of rejoicing: it sustained him in the hour 
of temptation, and afforded him peace in the midst 
of trouble. At home or abroad, he still was sitting 
with Christ Jesus in heavenly places. In sickness 
or in health, he daily conferred wrt^ this physician 
of inestimable value. In honour or dishonour, he 



166 



still was dignified with the favour of this everlasting 
King. In short, the- whole circle of his christian 
friends are ready to testify, that neither tribulation, 
nor distress, nor persecution, nor life, nor death, were 
able to separate this faithful pastor from the love of 
Christ : for whom he suffered the loss of all things, and 
by whose gracious presence that loss was abundantly 
overpaid. 



NOTE IV. 

Hia extraordinary vocation to the holy ministry. 

AS far as nature can furnish a man for offices 
cf a sacred kind, perhaps there never was a person 
better qualified to sustain the character of a minister 
of Jesus Christ, than M. de la Flechere. His dispo- 
sition and habits, his sentiments and studies, his re- 
verential awe of God, his insatiable thirst after truth, 
and his uncommon abhorrence of vice, gave his 
friends abundant reason to apprehend, that he was 
marked, at an early age, for the service of the church. 
Contrary, however, to all expectation, and contrary 
to the designs of his family, before he had arrived 
at the age of twenty, he manifested views of a very 
opposite nature. His theological studies gave place 
to the systems of Vauban and Cohorn, and he evi- 
dently preferred the camp to the church. All the 
remonstrances of his friends, on this apparent change 
in his disposition, were totally ineffectual ; and, had 
it not been for repeated disappointments, he would 



167 



have wielded another sword than that of the Spirit. 
Happily, his projects for the field were constantly 
baffled and blasted by the appointments of that God, 
who reserved him for a more important scene of ac- 
tion. His choice of the army is, however, to be im- 
puted rather to principle than inclination. On the 
one hand he detested the irregularities and vices to 
which a military life would expose him : on the o- 
ther, he dreaded the condemnation he might incur, 
by acquitting himself unfaithfully in the pastoral of- 
fice. He conceived it abundantly easier to toil for 
glory in fields of blood, than to labour for God, with 
unwearied perseverance, in the vineyard of the 
church. He believed himself qualified rather for 
military operations, than for spiritual employments. 
On the whole, after fully debating the matter in his 
own mind, the exalted ideas he entertained of the 
holy ministry determined him to seek some other 
profession, more adapted to the weakness of hu- 
manity. 

Soon after his disappointments with respect to 
the army, his inclination led him to visit England, 
where he afterwards found that sovereign good, which 
he had been vainly pursuing from place to place. 
During the early part of his residence in England, it 
is not known that he entertained any thought of en- 
tering into holy orders, though he diligently prosecu- 
ted those studies, which are generally regarded as pre- 
paratory to such a step. It is most probable, that he 
had formed no design of this nature* till about the se- 
cond year of his continuance at Tern-Hall, in Shrop- 
shire ; when lie became acquainted with the power 



168 



of true religion, and experienced that important 
change of heart, which is described in the second note. 
Receiving, at that time, an inestimable talent from the 
hand of God, he resolved, like a wise and faithful 
servant, to neglect nothing that might conduce to the 
due improvement of it: and, from that period, it he- 
came his grand enquiry, What shall I raider unto the 
Lord for all the benefits that he hath done unto me ? No 
service appeared too laborious to be undertaken, nor 
any sacrifice too valuable to be offered, in return for 
the signal favors conferred upon him. But what ser- 
vice could he render, or what sacrifice could he offer, 
that might be acceptable to the Gon who had done so 
great things for him ? The holy ministry, indeed ap- 
peared to open before him a passage to the most impor- 
tant labours; and an entire consecration of his united 
powers to this momentous work, he considered as the 
richest oblation he could make to the Father of 
mercies. But a variety of fears, respecting his 
own unworthiness, prevented him from imme- 
diately offering this sacrifice, or hastily entering 
upon this work. He trembled at the idea of 
running before he was sent, and dreaded en gaging 
in a warfare at his own cost He believed him- 
self unfurnished for the duties of the office, to 
which he aspired. And though he considered the incli- 
nation of his heart as an internal call to the service 
of the church, yet he judged it necessary to tarry 
till that call should be confirmed, if not by some pro- 
vidential opening, at least by the approbation of his 
christian friends. The latter kind of confirmation 
was readily obtained. A discovery of his senti- 
ments was no sooner made> but many honourable 



169 



eklers in the houshold of God, who had discernment 
enough to distinguish the grace that was in him, and 
how admirably he was fitted for the work of an evan- 
gelist, rejoiced over him as a faithful laborer already 
hired into the vineyard of Christ. They not only ratifi- 
ed his internal-call to the holy ministry, by their unani- 
mous approbation, but earnestly solicited him to obey 
that call without any further delay. Mean-while, the 
word of the Lord was as a fire in his bones, ever 
struggling for vent, and not unfrequently breaking 
forth as occasion offered, in public reproof, exhorta- 
tion, and prayer. 

In thi-s state he continued for about the space of 
two years, not wholly determined what course he 
should pursue, but patiently waiting to hear what the 
Loud God would say concerning him. And during 
this season, he was much occupied in making a dili- 
gent preparation for the service of the altar, that, if 
ever he should be called to so honorable an employ- 
ment, he might go forth throughly furnished to 
every good work. The chief objects of his pursuit 
were sacred knowledge and christian purity , in both 
of which he made an uncommon proficiency, surpass- 
ing many who had studied for that knowledge, and 
struggled for that purity, through the greater part of 
their life. By his private exercises he was fitted for 
public labors, add by the holy dicipline, to which he 
submitted himself without any reserve, he was train- 
ed to spiritual eminence in the school of Christ. To 
those who perfectly knew him in this state of retire- 
ment, he appeared as dLjiolhhed shaft, hid indeed for 3 
season in the quiver of his Lord, yet ready for imme» 



170 



diate service, and prepared to fly in any appointed 

direction. 

He was not without promises t)f preferment in 
the church : but these served rather to retard, than 
to hasten, his entrance into it. Having a sacrifice 
to perform, and not a fortune to secure, he was fear- 
ful lest his intention should be debased by views of an 
interested nature. At length, his humble reluctance 
was overcome, and, after the most mature delibera- 
tion, he solemnly determined to offer himself a can- 
didate for holy orders. And to this solemn de- 
termination he was urged by the increasing force of 
two powerful motives, gratitude and benevolence : grati- 
tude to God impelled him to declare the name of his 
great benefactor, and bear public testimony to the 
word of his grace ; while benevolence toward his fel- 
low men incited him to sfiend and be spent in promo- 
ting their best interests. Constrained by these rare 
and sacred motives, he publicly dedicated himself to „ 
the work of the holy ministry in the year 1757, when 
he received deacon's orders on Sunday, March the 
sixth, from the hands of the bishop of Hereford, and 
priest's orders on the following Sunday, from the 
hands of the bishop of Bangor, in the chapel royal at , 
St. James's. 



i 



in 



NOTE V. 

His entire devotion to Jesus Christ. 

DEVOTION to Christ, though it be strict- 
ly enjoined by the church, is rarely discernable in the 
conduct of her members. As the majority of Chris- 
tians are satisfied with a superficial knowledge of the 
Redeemer , so their devotion to him is purely of a pro- 
fessional nature. Their attachment to Christ may 
dispose them to some few external marks of respect 
toward Him, but is insufficient to produce in them 
any single act of genuine obedience or, self-denial. 
They reverence his name, while they reject his au- 
thority ; and acknowledge Him as a Saviour, while 
they refuse to follow him as a guide. In all these re- 
spects it was totally otherwise with the man, whose 
character is here faintly delineated. His devotion 
to Christ was sincere and unreserved? first as a pri- 
vate christian, and afterwards as a minister of the 
Gospel, As a private christian he was a strict and con- 
stant follower of the blessed Jesus, renouncing for 
his sake all the transient gratifications of time and 
sense. Whatever he had formerly admired and 
pursued, he voluntarily laid at the feet of his Lord. 
Those requisitions of Christ which are generally look- 
ed upon as strict in the extreme, he submitted to with- 
out a murmur ; cutting off the right hand, plucking 
out the right eye, and casting away whatever might 
prove offensive to his spotless master, with all ihe de- 
termination of a deep rooted attachment. He cast a- 
side every weight, he resisted every sin, and neglect- 



172 



cd nothing, that might prove either the sincerity of 
his zeal, or the fervor of his love. He dedicated his 
time, his studies, his acquisitions, and his substance 
to the service of his Lord ; and desired to present 
him, at once, with his whole being, as a living sacri- 
fice, expressive of his entire devotion. As a minis- 
ter of the Gospel, his devotion to Christ was express- 
ed, if possible, in a still more absolute manner. He 
entered more universally into his service, and mani- 
fested a greater degree of zeal for the honor of his 
name. He imitated his perfections in a more unlim- 
ited sense, and interested himself more deeply in the 
extension of his kingdom upon earth. His renuncia- 
tion of the world became more complete, and his self- 
denial more strict. He acted with greater resolu- 
tion, and suffered with greater firmness, in the cause 
of Christianity. His devotion to Christ was now carri- 
ed to a higher pitch, than most christians are willing 
to believe attainable in the present life. He had no 
interest to serve, no inclination to gratify, nor any 
connection to maintain, but such as evidently flowed 
from, or was entirely conformable to, the nature of his 
union with the holy Jesus. Wherever he came,. he 
breathed the spirit of devotion ; and wherever he was 
familiarly known, the purity, the fervor, the resolu- 
tion, and the constancy of that devotion, were univer- 
sally apparent. He daily felt and acted in conformi- 
ty to the powerful obligations, by which he was bound 
to the Captain of his salvation. His vows of inviola- 
ble affection and fidelity were solemnly renewed, as 
occasion offered, both in public and in private : and 
it was wonderful to observe, through all the vicissi- 
tudes of his christian warfare 3 how perfect a harme- 




irs 



ny was maintained betweenliis inclinations and his en- 
gagements! his habits and his profession. It would 
be very easy to expatiate largely under this head, 
though very difficult to give a description, in any tole- 
rable degree, adequate to the subject. Instead of 
presenting the reader with several pages upon the 
point now before us, it shall suffice to say, that this 
venerable man's entire devotion to Jesus Christ, as a 
minister of the Gospel, was variously expressed in 
much patience, in afflictions, in necessities, in distresses, 
in labours, in watchings, in fastings, by pureness, by 
knowledge, by long-suffering, by kindness, by the Holy 
Ghost, by love unfeigned, by the %vord of truth, by the 
power of God, by the armour of righteousness on 
the right hand and on the left, by honor and dishonor 
by evil report and good report, 



HE, who engages himself to fight the battles 
of the Lord, has need of uncommon strength and ir- 
resistible arms ; and if he be destitute of the one 
or the other, he vainly expects to stand in the evil 
day. The christian warrior is exposed to a vast va- 
riety of dangers, and beset with innumerable ene- 
mies. His whole life is one continued scene of war- 
fare, in which he wrestles sometimes with visible.) 
and at other times with invisible adversaries. For 
the labours of this sacred warfare, no man ever es- 




ifis strength and his arms. 



NOTE VI, 



p 2 



1-7* 



teemed himself less sufficient than M. de la Flechere. 
He ever considered himself as the weakest of Christ's 
adherents, and unworthy to follow his glorious stand- 
ard. But while he boasted no inherent strength, and 
was ready to occupy the meanest post, he was re- 
garded by his brethren, as a man peculiarly strong in 
the Lord*, and in the flower of his might. United ta 
Christ, as the branch is united to the vine, he was con- 
stantly deriving abundant supplies of vigor from the 
fountain-head of power. And as the source of his 
strength was inexhaustible, so its operations were va- 
rious and incessant. Now it was engaged in subdu- 
ing sin ; and now, in laboring after that holiness^ without 
which no man shall see the Lord: there it inspired the 
courage of the mighty, and here it sustained the bur- 
dens of the weak : at one time, it was discovered by 
resolution and zeal ; at another, by resignation and 
fortitude : by the former, this man of God was ena- 
bled to grapple with his strongest enemy ; by the latter, 
he was taught to endure hardness , as a good soldier of 
Jesus Christ. His arms were equal to his strength, 
and served to make him truly invincible in the cause 
of godliness. From his first admission into the true 
church militant, he was fully pursuaded, that armour 
forged by the art of man must needs be insufficient, 
either for conquest or security, in a spiritual warfare. 
He saw it absolutely necessary to be furnished with 
weapons of celestial temper, and was altogether dis- 
satisfied with his state, tilLhe had put on the whole ar- 
mour of God. He now appeared in the complete 
christian uniform, with a determined resolution never 
to put it off, till his last conflict should be decided. 
From the helmet of salvation to the sandals of peace 



175 



all was entire, and perfectly fitted to his spiritual 
frame. No mortal part was left unguarded, nor was 
any joint of his harness so loose, as to admit a thrust 
from the enemy. No part of his sacred panoply ap- 
peared uncouth or cumbersome, no part of his car- 
riage constrained or unnatural : he appeared in arms, 
as in his proper dress, and not as David, when he as- 
sayed to go forth in the armour of Saul. On no oc- 
casion was he ever known to affect any thing like 
spiritual pGmp ; yet, on every occasion, there was a 
dignity of character in his deportment, that raised 
the veneration of every beholder. As the heroes of 
antiquity were distinguished from warriors of an in- 
ferior order by the splendor of their arms, so by the 
uncommon lustre of his graces, he was distinguished 
as a chieftain in the christian bands. Nor was he 
remarkable merely for the worth and beauty of his 
arms, but principally for the important conquests he 
obtained by them over error and impiety. Not to 
mention here the success of his internal conflicts with 
sin and self, which have been already alluded to, 
there are not wanting, at this day, in the parish and 
vicinity of Madeley, many indisputable proofs, that 
the weapons of his warfare were mighty^ through God, 
to the pulling down of strong holds. He attacked sin, 
in public and in private, under all its wonderful varie- 
ty of appearances ; and never quitted the charge, 
till he had either subdued or put it to shame. Un- 
awed either by numbers, or by power, he was supe- 
rior to all the opposition' tlfat could be raised a- 
gainst him ; and it may be confidently asserted 
that no man was able to stand before him, all the 
days of his life. That he had enemies, who were ne*> 



176 



ver subdued, will readily be granted : but that any of 
those enemies were hardy enough openly to encoun- 
ter him, is absolutely denied. The despisers of reli- 
gion considered him as a man of an undaunted spirit in 
the cause of God ; and the most daring among them, 
at the whisper of his approach, would seek the nearest 
shelter to screen themselves from his deserved re- 
buke. 

The weapon, by which he was enabled to per- 
form the most memorable of hi s public services, was that 
sacred word, which is emphatically called, The sword 
of the Spirit. In the exercise of this two edged in- 
strument he was expert beyond description, turning 
it every way for the defence of the Gospel, and the 
overthrow of its opposers. With this he cut in 
pieces all the snares of the wicked, and with this he 
struck at the deepest root of sin. With this he di- 
vided asunder §oul and spirit, joints and marrow : and 
wherever he aimed the determined blow, it was im- 
possible for all the address of the sinner effectually 
to ward it off. Upon this he chiefly depended for the 
success of his ministry, as the only weapon by which 
he could ever hope to penetrate through the preju- 
dices of his people, and subdue their aversion to the 
glorious Gospel. While others are anxious to charm 
their hearers with " the studied ornaments of artifi- 
cial eloquence," his first care was, in simplicity and 
godly sincerity, to declare the truth, as it is in Jesus. 
Had he aimed at celebrity as a public speaker, fur- 
nished as he was with all the united powers of learn- 
ing, genius, and taste, he might have succeeded be- 
yond many, who are engaged rn so insignificant a 



177 



pursuit. But his design was to convert, and not to 
captivate, his hearers ; to secure their eternal inter- 
ests, and not to obtain their momentary applause. 
Hence, his speech and his preaching was not with en- 
ticing words of man's wisdom, but in demonstration of 
the Spirit, and of power. He spake, as in the pre- 
sence of God, and taught, as one having divine au- 
thority. There was an energy in his preaching that 
was irresistable. His subjects, his language, his ges- 
tures, the tone of his voice, and the turn of his coun- 
tenance, all conspired to fix the attention and affect 
the heart. Without aiming at sublimity, he was 
ruly sublime, and uncommonly eloquent, without af- 
fecting the orator. He was wondrously skilled in 
adapting himself to tire different capacities and con- 
ditions of his hearers. He could stoop to the illite- 
rate and rise with the learned ; he had incontroverta- 
ble arguments for the sceptic, and powerful persua- 
sives for the listless believer ; he had sharp remon- 
strance for the obstinate, and strong consolation for 
the mourner: and, like a scribe thoroughly instruct- 
ed unto the kingdom of heaven, he brought forth 
out of his treasures things new and old, as occasion 
.required. To hear him without admiration, was im- 
possible ; without profit, improbable. The unthink- 
ing went from his presence under the influence of 
serious impressions, and the obdurate with kindled 
relentings. ftiaay an unsuspecting trifler has he en- 
closed in the Gospel net, and many a happy captive 
has he led, in the course of his public ministry, from 
darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God, 
I shall here transcribe a short passage from a letter 
addressed to the writer of these Notes, by one of 



178 



the author's esteemed friends. " I would rather have 
heard," says the writer, " one sermon from M. de 
la Flechere, viva voce^ than read a volume of his 
works. His words were clothed with power, and en- 
tered with effect. His writings are arrayed in all 
the garb of human literature. But his living word 
soared an eagle's flight above humanity. He basked 
in the sun, carried his young ones on his wings, and 
seized the prey for his master. In short, his preach- 
ing was afiostolic ; while his writings, though en- 
lightened, are but human" 

That he was a successful preacher of the Gospel, 
in his own, as well as in this country, the following 
little relation may serve as a sufficient proof. On his 
first visit to Switzerland, after entering into holy or- 
ders, he was waited upon by the clergy at N) on, who 
severally pressed him to honour their pulpits during 
his stay at that place. On the morrow of his arri- 
val, being the sabbath day, he addressed his coun- 
trymen in an admirable discourse, the result of much 
prayer and meditation. The subject matter of this 
sermon, and the manner in which it was delivered, 
were equally striking. The clearness and pathos, 
with which he expressed himself upon this occasion, 
attracted the attention of all, and filled many with a 
serious concern for the faith once delivered to the 
saints. Deists themselves listened with admiration ; 
while the multitude appeared, as though* they saw 
and heard something more than man. ...To adopt 
the French idea, he carried off the whole audience. 
During his continuance at Nyor^ he preached indif- 
ferent churches ; and wherever he was announced, 



173 



multitudes flocked from all quarters to attend him. 
The reputation of his great abilities drew together 
persons of every description ; and it was truly re- 
freshing, says an intimate friend of M. de la Flech- 
ere, who was present upon these occasions, to be- 
hold the powerful effects of the Gospel among those 9 
who, before that time, had seldom or never heard it 
proclaimed in its purity. Many despisers of revela- 
tion were overawed and confounded ; many formal 
professors were touched with the power of true reli- 
gion ; and many careless lovers of pleasure were 
impressed with a solemn sense of eternal things.... 
One young man, in particular, was so deeply affect- 
ed by the discourses of this powerful preacher, that 
he immediately resolved to consecrate himself to 
the service of God, in the work of the holy minis- 
try. Accordingly he betook himself ffom that 
time to studies of a sacred nature, and is at this, 
day minister of the protestant church at Lyons. A- 
mong others, a good old minister, who was more 
than seventy years of age, heard him gladly ; and 
earnestly intreated him to lengthen out his visit at 
Nyon, though it should be but for a single week be- 
yond the time proposed for his departure. He urg- 
ed his request with much importunity : and when he 
found that his desire could not conveniently be com- 
plied with, the old man wept, and turning to M. de 
la Flechere's fellow-traveller, affectingly exclaimed* 
" O Sir, how unfortunate for this country ; during 
" my day it has produced but one angel of . a man, and 
" it is our lot to be deprived of him !" The benefit 
"of his public labors in this place was significantly at- 
tested, by the numerous applications he received in 



180 

private, for religious instruction. And the grate IVi 
sense his countrymen entertained of those labors was 
fully expressed, in their affectionate concern at his 
departure from among them. Weeping multitudes 
crowded round his carnage, anxious to receive a last 
word or look : and not a few followed his chariot wheels 
above two miles from the town, before they had reso- 
lution to tear themselves entirely away from the comr 
pany of this venerable man . 

For Nyon to be deprived of the ministry of this 
illustrious divine was truly unfortunate : but it was 
equally happy for that favored village, which was 
appointed to be the scene of his exemplary labors. 
There his strength and his arms were chiefly exer- 
cised, and there his most important victories over 
sin were obtained. There his name will long con- 
tinue to be had in honor : and from thence many a 
goodly jewel will be collected, to form for him a 
crown of rejoicing, in the day of the Lord. 

m 



NOTE VII. 

His fioiver to bind, to loose, and to bless, in the name 
of the Lord. 

M. DE laFlechere, like the good pastor above 
described, was accustomed to place his chief glory and 
pleasure in spreading abroad the benedictions of the 
Gospel. He considered the ministration of mercy 
as-abundantly more glorious than the ministration of 




condemnation, and was disposed to magnify it as 
-such upon all occasions. Experiencing in his own 
heart the inestimable effects of mercy, he was anx- 
ious that all men should be partakers of his joy : and 
whenever he was engaged in pointing out the source 
of that mercy, its nature, its design, or the different 
degrees of its manifestation, he was then engaged in 
an employment peculiarly suited, both to his inclina- 
tion, and his state. These were subjects, upon which 
he delighted to dwell, and upon which he had aston- 
ishing things to offer. His disposition to uni- 
versal benevolence was conspicuous through the 
whole of his spiritual progress, but especially in the 
latter years of his life, when his heart was as a vessel 
running over with christian charity. As the holy oint- 
ment ran down from the head of Aaron to the very 
skirts of his clothing ; so the charity of this exempla- 
ry pastor descended to, and embraced, the very least 
and lowest of the human race. Wherever the small- 
est religious desire was expressed, he pronounced a 
blessing upon it; and wherever the weakest endeavour 
afttr spiritual attainments was discoverable, he encou- 
raged it with his congratulations, and strengthened 
it with his prayers : nay, wherever impiety opposed 
him under its most malignant appearances, he met 
it with mingled commiseration and hope. Like a 
faithful imitator of the blessed Je-us, he came preach- 
ing peace, and breathing the most undissembled good- 
will to all around him Like his beneficient master, 
he went about either doing, or seeking to do good, in 
every possible way : and wherever he came, he ap- 
peared like some superior being, whose soie employ- 
ment was to benefit and bless the children of men. 



132 



Jn those houses where the sons and daughters of 
peace were found, he was welcomed as a messenger 
of the most joyful tidings, and honored as an am- 
bassador of Jesus Christ. These happy families 
submitted with joy to his paternal authority, and con- 
sidered his pastoral visits as an invaluable privilege. 
They looked upon their houses as consecrated by 
his prayers, and received his benedictions with rever- 
ence and gratitude. 

That the prayers and benedictions of this venera- 
ble minister were of real importance, no reasonable 
doubt can be entertained ; since the apostle James 
has expressly declared, that the effectual, fervent 
prayer of a righteous man availeth much. In how 
many instances his fervent prayer has proved effectual, 
cannot possibly be determined, on this side the grave : 
but there is one instance of a public nature, in which 
this has evidently appeared to be the case, and which, 
from the time of his decease, has excited the admi- 
ration and thankfulness of his surviving friends. 
The instance here alluded to, is the unexpected con- 
tinuance of a powerful and well directed ministry in 
the parish of Madeley. Upon the sudden removal 
of this great man, from the labors of his station to the 
enjoymentof his reward, nothing was more improba- 
ble, than that he should be succeeded in that stationby a 
person qualified, in any degree, to tread in his steps. 
His people began to look forward with a melancholy 
apprehension, that the place, which had been so high- 
ly favored, with respect to religious culture, would 
shortly be deprived of its beauty, and, perhaps, be laid 
utterly waste. Their lamented paster might have 



183 



been succeeded by some person devoted to interest, 
to indolence, or pleasure : and it was for some time 
more than probable that it would be so. But, by a 
concurrence of wonderful providences, a man was ap- 
pointed to that important charge, whose unfeigned 
piety and ministerial abilities marked him out, as the 
only suitable successor to so eminent a servant of 
God. This was acknowledged at the time, by every 
attentive observer, to be the Lord's doing. And, at 
this day, while the inhabitants of Madeley behold the 
labors of the deceased carried on with fidelity and 
success, they recollect the ardent prayers he was ac- 
customed to offer, and the confidence he sometimes 
expressed, that God would assuredly provide a supply 
for the spiritual wants of his people, whenever a pe- 
riod should be put to his public ministry among them. 

While I bear testimony, in this note, to the pa- 
triarchal authority of M. de laFlechere, in pronounc- 
ing blessings upon his spiritual sons and daughters, 
I recollect with thankfulness, that his benedictions 
and prayers-will follow me through life. That those 
benedictions and prayers will open me a way to un- 
expected mercies, I presume not to say : but I trust 
they will never cease to act upon me as a powerful 
stimulus, exciting me to walk worthy of that friend- 
ship and regard, with which I was so undeservedly 
honored by this holy man. 



iS4 



NOTE VIIL 

The earnestness with which he began, and continued to 
Jill up,) the duties of his vocation. 

IT was not immediately upon his entering in- 
to holy orders, that M. de ia Flechere was appointed 
statedly to labor in any particular place. As he still 
continued in the family of Mr. Hill, he was but occa- 
sionally called to exercise the ministry he had receiv- 
ed. But, wherever he wa* invited to speak in the 
name ofhis master, he effectually distinguished him- 
self from the generality of ministers, by the earnest- 
ness and zeal, with which he delivered his message* 
Whatever his hand found to do, in any part of the 
sacred vineyard, it may truly be said, that he did it 
with all his might : and there is much reason to be- 
lieve that even these occasional labors were not in 
vain in the Lord. . It was about three years after his 
ordination, that he was presented to the living of 
Madeley, where he had officiated for some time pre- 
vious to this appointment. As Madeley was the 
place of his choice, so it was a place to which, by his 
rare endowments, he was peculiarly adapted, and for 
the reformation of which he appears to have been 
eminently appointed, by the providence of God. Cele- 
brated for the extensive works carried on within its 
limits, Madeley was remarkable for little else, than 
the ignorance and profaneness of its inhabitants, a- 
xnong whom respect to man was as rarely to be ob- 
served as piety toward God. In this benighted 
place the sabbath was openly profaned 3 and the most 



185 



holy things contemptuously trampled under foot ; 
even the restraints of decency were violently broken 
through, and the external form of religion held up as 
a subject of ridicule. This general description of the 
inhabitants of Madeley must not, however, be indis- 
criminately applied to every individual among them: 
exceptions there were to this prevailing character^ 
but they were comparatively few indeed. Such was 
the place, where M. de la Flechere was called to 
stand forth, as a preacher of righteousness, and in 
which he appeared, for the space of five and twenty 

I years, as a burning and shining light. 
Immediately upon his settling in this populous 
village, he entered upon the duties of his vocation with 
an extraordinary degree of earnestness and zeaL 
He saw the difficulties of his situation, and the re- 
proaches to which he should be exposed, by a con- 
scientious discharge of the pastoral office: but per- 
suaded of the importance of his charge, and concern- 
ed for the welfare of his people, he set his face like a 
flint against the persecuting rage of his enemies. 
As a steward of the manifold grace of God, he faith- 
fully dispensed the word of life, according as every 
man had need ; instructing the ignorant, reasoning 
with gainsay ers, exhorting the immoral, and rebuking 
the obstinate. Instant in season and out of season, 
he diligently performed the work of an evangelist, 
and lost no opportunity of declaring the truths of the 
Gospel. Not content with discharging the stated du- 
ties of the sabbath, he counted that day as lost, in 
which he was not actually employed in the service of 
the church, As often as a small congregation could 
q 2 



186 



be collected, which was usually every evening, he joy- 
fully proclaimed to them the acceptable year of the 
Lord, whether it were in the place set apart for pub- 
lic worship, in a private house, or in the open air. 
And on these occasions, the affectionate and fervent 
manner in which he addressed his hearers, was an af- 
fecting proof of the interest he took in the spiritual 
concerns. As the varying circumstances of his peo- 
ple required, he assumed a different appearance a- 
Aaongthem : at one season he would open his mouth 
yn blessings ; and, at another, he would appear, like 
his Lord amid the buyers and sellers, with the lash of 
righteous severity in his hand. But, in whatever 
way he exercised his ministry, it was evident that 
his labors were influenced by love, and tended imme- 
diately either to the extirpation of sin. or the increase 
of holiness. Nor was he less attentive to the private 
duties of his station, than to public exhortation and 
prayer. Like a vigilant pastor, he daily acquainted 
himself with the wants and dispositions of his people, 
anxiously watching over their several households, 
and diligently teaching them from family to family. 
Esteeming no man too mean, too ignorant, or too pro- 
fane, to merit his affectionate attention, he c.ondescei> 
ded to the lowest and most unworthy of his flock, 
cheerfully becoming the servant of all, that he might 
gain the more. In the performance of this part of his 
duty, he discovered an admirable mixture of discre- 
tion and zeal, solemnity and sweetness. He rebuked 
not an elder, but intreated him as a father ; to 
younger men he addressed himself with the affection 
of a brother, and to children with the tenderness of a 
parent ; witnessing both to small and great the re- 



187 



demption that is in Jesus, and pursuading them to 
cast in their lot with the people of God. In some of 
these holy visits the earnest and constraining manner, 
in which he has pleaded the cause of piety, has melt- 
ed down a whole family at once ; the old and the young- 
have mingled their tears together, and solemnly de- 
termined to return right humbly to their God. There 
were, indeed, several families within his populous 
parish, to which he had no access, whose members, 
loving darkness rather than light, agreed to deny him 
admission, lest their deeds should be reproved. In 
such cases, where his zeal for the salvation of indi- 
viduals could not possibly be manifested by persua- 
sion and intreaty, it was effectually discovered by 
supplication and prayer : nor did he ever pass the door 
of an opposing family, without breathing out an ear- 
nest desire, that the door of mercy might never be 
barred against their approaches. With respect to 
his attendance upon the sick, he was exemplary and 
indefatigable. Anxious upon every suitable occasion 
to treat with his parishioners on subjects of a sacred 
nature, he was peculiarly solicitous to confer with 
them, when verging toward the borders of eternity. 
At such seasons when earthly objects lose their 
charms, and the mind is naturally dispossed to look 
for support from some other quarter, he cheerfully 
came in to improve the providential visitation, either 
by salutary advice, or seasonable consolation. These 
were valuable opportunities, which nothing could 
prevail upon him to neglect, fully convinced, that 
the dictates of truth are never more likely to make 
a due impression upon the heart, than when they 
are delivered in the anti-chamber of death. His 



188 



treatment of the dying was always regulated by their 
peculiar circumstances, and his fidelity toward them 
was sweetly tempered with compassion. If the de- 
parting soul was prepared for the premisses of the 
Gospel, he thankfully administered them with a 
lavish hand : if otherwise, he was importunate in 
prayer, that the mercy of God might be magni- 
fied upon his languishing creature, though it should 
be as at the eleventh hour. As he never visited 
the chambers of the dying, but in the spirit of 
earnest supplication so he seldom quitted them, with- 
out some degree cf consolatory hope. There is still 
another part of his duty, in the discharge of which 
he discovered unusual earnestness and activity. It 
was a common thing in his parish for young persons 
of both sexes to meet, at stated times, for the pur- 
pose of, what is called, recreation ; and this recrea- 
tion usually continued from evening to morning, 
consisting chiefly in dancing, revelling, drunkenness, 
and obscenity. These licentious assemblies he con- 
sidered as a disgrace to the christian name, and de- 
termined to exert his ministerial authority for their 
total suppression. He has frequently burst in upon 
these disorderly companies with a holy indignation, 
making v/ar upon satan in places peculiarly appro- 
priated to his service. Nor was his labor altogether 
in vain, among these children of dissipation and folly. 
After standing the first shock of their rudeness and 
brutality, his exhortations have been generally re- 
ceived with silent submission, and have sometimes 
produced a partial, if not an entire reformation in 
many, who were accustomed to frequent these as- 
semblies. With one of these persons I am perfectly 



189 



acquainted, who, having treated this venerable pas- 
tor with ridicule and abuse, in one of these riotous 
assemblies, was shortly afterwards constrained to 
cast himself at his feet and solicit his prayers. This 
man is now steadily walking in the fear of God, with 
a thankful remembrance of the extraordinary manner 
in which he was plucked, as a brand from the 
burning. 

These, and every other duty of his sacred voca- 
tion, among which I might have particularly noticed 
the public and private instruction of children, were 
performed, by this apostolic minister* with an earnest- 
ness and zeal, of which this note can convey but a 
very imperfect idea. Never weary of well-doing, he 
counted it his greatest privilege to spend and be spent 
in ministering to the church, which he constantly ho- 
nored as the body of Christy and in the service of 
which he sacrificed his strength, his health, and his 
life. 



NOTE IX. 

The manner in which he divided his time between 
prayer, preaching, and thanksgiving, 

IT is sufficiently evident, from what has been 
already advanced, that M. de la Fiechere was far 
more abundant in his public labors, than the greater 
part of his companions in the holy ministry. These 



190 



public labours, however, astonishing as they were, 
bore but little proportion to those internal exercises 
of prayer and supplication, to which he was wholly 
given up in private. The former, of necessity, were 
frequently discontinued ; but the latter were almost 
uninterruptedly maintained, from hour to hour. He 
lived in the spirit of prayer ; and whatever employ- 
ments he was' engaged in, this spirit was constantly 
manifested through them all. Without this he nei- 
ther formed any design, nor entered upon any duty : 
without this, he neither read nor conversed : without 
this, he neither visited, nor received a visitant. Be- 
fore I was of sufficient age to take holy orders, I 
tnanidliiiy* embraced the offered privilege of spend- 
ing a few months beneath the roof of this exempla- 
ry man, to whom I was at that time an entire stran- 
ger: and I well remember how solemn an impres- 
sion was made upon my heart, by the manner in 
which he received me. He met me at his door with 
a look of inexpressible benignity ; and conducting 
me by the hand into his house, intimated a desire of 
leading me immediately into the presence of that 
God, to whom the government of his little family 
was ultimately submitted. Instantly he fell upon 
his knees, and poured out an earnest prayer, that my 
present visit might be rendered both advantageous 
and comfortable, that the secret of the Lord might 
rest upon our common tabernacle, and that our socie- 
ty might be crowned by an intimate fellowship with 
that promised Emanuel, in whom all the families of 
the earth are called to inherit a blessing. This may 
serve as a specimen of the manner, in which he was 
accustomed to receive his guests. 



In his social prayers he paid but little attention to 
those rules, which have been laid down, with respect 
to the composition and order of these devotional ex- 
ercises. As ihe spirit gave him utterance, so he made 
his requests known unto God. But, while he prayed 
with the Spirit he -prayed with the understanding also. 
His words flowed spontaneously and without any pre- 
meditation, yet always wonderfully adapted to the oc- 
casion. Nothing impertinent, artificial, or superflu- 
ous, appeared in his addresses to the Deity : and 
while he presented those addresses, there was a so- 
lemnity and animation in his manner, which tended 
not only to edify, but to quicken and exalt the soul. 
There have been seasons of supplication, in which he 
appeared to be carried out far beyond the ordinary 
limits of devotion ; when, like his Lord upon the 
mount, while he has continued to pour out his migh- 
ty prayer, the fashion of his countenance has been chang- 
ed, and his face has appeared as the face of an angel. 
None, except those who have frequently joined with 
him in this enlivening duty, can have any just con- 
ception of the manner, in which he performed it. 
They who have enjoyed this privilege, have seen and 
felt, what is not to be described : and to others, it can 
only be said, that his prayer was the prayer of faith, 
always fervent, often effectual, and invariably a min- 
gled flow of supplication and gratitude, humility and 
confidence, resignation and fervor, adoration and love. 

By the ardor of his social prayers, some judg- 
ment may be formed of his secret supplications : but 
of his frequent vehement struggles, and unutterable 
breathings, in these private exercises, He alone can 



192 



judge, who seeth in secret. His deepest and most 
sensible communications with God were enjoyed in 
those hours, when the door of his closet was shut 
against human creatures, as well as human cares. 
And though he rejoiced to lift up his hands in com- 
pany with his friends, yet, when his heart was at any 
time peculiarly inflamed with desire, or pressed with 
affliction, he would say to his friends, as Christ to his 
disciples, Sit ye here, while I go and pray yonder.... 
His closet was the favourite retirement, to which he 
constantly retreated, whenever his public duties al- 
lowed him a season of leibure. Here he was privily 
hidden, as in the presence of God. Here he would 
either patently wait for, or joyfully triumph in, the 
loving kindness of the Lord. Here he would plunge 
himself into the depths of humiliation ; and from 
hence, at other seasons, as from another Pisgah, he 
would take a large survey of the vast inheritance, 
which is reserved for the saints. Here he would ra- 
tify his solemn engagements to God : and here, like 
the good king Hezekiah, he would spread the vari- 
ous circumstances of his people at the feet of their 
common Lord. In all cases of difficuby he 
would retire to this consecrated place to ask counsel 
of the Most High ; and here, in times of uncommon 
distress, he has continued during whole nights in pray- 
er before God. At one period of his life, he was 
brought into such an intricate situation, that he was 
wholly at a loss to discover what God required at his 
hand: and such was the difficulty before him, that 
the opinions of his most experienced friends could 
afford him but little light with, respect to it. In this 
state, for three months successively, he spread the 



193 



intricacies of his case before the Judge of all the 
earth, intreating that he would direct the course of 
his conduct, by the order of his providence, and the 
influence of his Spirit. His request was continued 
till an answer was obtained, which was not till the 
wall of his chamber could exhibit a proof of his ve- 
hement intercession ; that part of it, against which he 
was accustomed to kneel, appearing deeply stained 
with the breath he had spent in fervent supplication : 
such was the ardor of his spirit, and such the devo- 
tion of his heart. The above circumstance was dis- 
covered by some about him, who were well acquaint- 
ed with his manner in trying situations. 

His preaching was perpetually preceded, accom- 
panied, and succeeded, by prayer. Before he entered 
upon the performance of tb^ duty, he requested of 
the great Master of assemblies a subject adapted to 
the conditions of his people : earnestly soliciting for 
himself wisdom, utterance, and power ; for them a se- 
rious frame, an unprejudiced mind, and a retentive 
heart. This necessary preparation for the profitable 
performance of his ministerial duties, was of longer 
or shorter duration, according to his peculiar state at 
the time : and frequently he could form an accurate 
judgment of the effect that would be produced in pub- 
lic, by the langour or enlargement he had experien- 
ced in private. The spirit of prayer accompanied 
him from the closet to the pulpit : and while he was 
outwardly employed in pressing i he truth upon his 
hearers, he was inwardly engaged in pleading that 

R 



194 



last great promise of his unchangeable Lord, I am 
with you alway, even unto the end of the world. 

From the great congregation he again withdrew 
to his sacred retreat, there requesting in secret, that a 
blessing might accompany his public labors, and that 
the seed which he had sown, being treasured up in 
honest and good hearts, might sooner or later become 
abundantly fruitful. 

While it is here recorded, that this faithful ser- 
vant of God was accustomed to pray without ceasing, 
it must be noted, at the same time, as a distinquish- 
ing part of his character, that, in every thing he gave 
thanks. His heart was always in a grateful frame, and 
it was his chief delight to honor God by offering him 
thanks and praise. PieQ r ueDtly, when he has been en- 
gaged in recounting the gi^cious dealings of God 
with respect to himself, or his signal favors conferred 
upon the church, he has broke out in a strain of holy 
rejoicing, 0 that men would therefore praise the Lord 
for his goodness, and declare the wonders that he doeth 
for the children- of men! He considered every unex- 
pected turn of providence, as a manifestation of his 
Father's good pleasure, and discerned causes of thanks- 
giving, either obvious or latent, in every occurrence. 
Thus, either in the expectation, or in the possession, 
of promised mercies, he rejoiced evermore. The im- 
mediate causes of his joy were manifold, public and 
private, spiritual and temporal ; but they all were 
* swallowed up in the advancement of Christ's king- 
dom upon earth. This he considered, as a subject 



195 



of universal rejoicing, and for this, he more especially 
desired to praise the name of God with a song, arid to 
magnify it with thanksgiving. 

As he has justly expressed, in the trait of St. Paul. 
" Pastors, who pray for their flocks, pray not in vain, 
" their fervent petitiens are heard ; sinners are con- 
M verted, the faithful are edified, and thanksgiving 
" is shortly joined to supplication. " With respect 
to himself it was abundantly so. The seed which he 
had watered with his tears, and followed with his 
prayers, produced, at length, a plentiful harvest.... 
His ministry was attended with unusual success, and 
a considerable body of his people saluted each other 
as brethren in Christ. His exultation over these, in 
their regenerate state, was equal to his former soli- 
citude on their account : and as ofien as an occasion 
has presented itself of leading a penitent prodigal 
into the household of God, his carriage has been 
marked by every possible demonstration of joy. Lead- 
ing the returning wanderer into his spiritual family, 
he would cry out, With a countenance full of holy tri- 
umph, If there be joy in the presence of the angels 
of God over one sinner that repenteth, then it is meet 
that we should rejoice and be glad together this day ; 
for this ?ny ton was dead and is alive again^ he was 
lost and is found. His joy was continually receiving 
some accession of this kind. From year to year, sin- 
ners were converted from the error of their ways, 
and believers were built up in their most holy faith : 
while he appeared among them as a happy father, 
rejoicing in their prosperity, and blessed in the bless- 
ings of his spiritual children. 



196 

Such were the different states of earnest prayer, 
and joyful praise, with which this evangelical preach- 
er was deeply acquainted, and which mutually pre- 
ceded and succeeded each other in his christian ex- 
perience. 

NOTE X. 

The fidelity rvith which he announced the severe threat* 
erdngS) and consolatory promises of the GosJieL 

RIGHTLY to divide the word of truth is a 
work of no little importance, in the church of God..*. 
Here fidelity and skill are equally necessary, and if ei- 
ther be wanting, the work will be incompleted Vv T ith 
respect to the latter, either as it regards the word of 
God, or as it relates to* the human heart, M. de la 
Flechere was abundantly qualified for the discharge 
of his ministerial duties. As to the human heart, 
he had so long and so accurately investigated his 
own, that he was not easily deceived in forming a 
judgment of his neighbour's. He knew its depths as 
well as its shallows, and its subtle artifices as well as 
its natural tempers : he explored its intricate mazes, 
and unlocked its secret recesses, with wonderful ease ; 
and could generally discover its real situation through 
all its assumed disguises. With regard to the word 
of God, he had studied it with so much constancy 
and care, that he was perfectly familiar with every 
part of it. He was deeply read in the spiritual sense 



of the word, and had a happy talent at reconciling its 
apparent contradictions. He could select from it, 
with the utmost readiness, truths of every different 
tendency ; and knew how to apply them not only in 
common cases, btrt in the most extraordinary exigen- 
cies of God's people. His fidelity, in addressing 
the different classes of his hearers, was correspon- 
dent to that spirit of discernment and wisdom, with 
which he was so eminently favored. On the one 
hand, he never attempted slightly to heal the hurt of 
his people : and, on the other, he was solicitous ne*- 
ver to make sad the heart of the righteous^ whom God 
had not made sad. Wherever he discovered impiety 
in the conduct, or hypocrisy in the heart, he immedi- 
ately levelled against it the keenest arrows of convic- 
tion. He warned the wicked of his way, and fre- 
quently endeavoured to draw him from it, by alarm- 
ing his heart with salutary fears ; selecting and ap- 
plying, upon these occasions, those passages of holy 
writ, which are peculiarly firofitable for reproof and 
correction. And, whenever it became necessary, he 
marshalled against the careless sinner the most ter- 
rible denunciations of the Almighty's wrath. In the 
performance of this part of his duty, he paid but lit- 
tle regard to the outward circumstances of the offend- 
ing party. Whether the enemies of God appeared 
in the splendor of riches, or in the meanness of pover- 
ty ; whether they were distinguished by their erudi- 
tion, or despicable by their ignorance, he met them 
with equal firmness in the cause of truth. The style 
of his reproofs was adapted, indeed, to the various ca- 
pacities and habits of these different classes of men ; 

R 2 



i9a 



but the substance of those reproofs was invariably the 
same to whatever class they were directed, neither 
sharpened by contempt, nor blunted by respect, 
Unawed either by the majesty of kings, or the mad- 
ness of the people, he was equally fitted to appear 
with Moses at an impious court, or to stand with Ste- 
phen in a turbulent assembly. But though he 
was far from betraying any pusillanimity in applying 
the severe threatenings of the Gospel to the obsti- 
nately impenitent, yet bis heart, in this awful em- 
ployment, was never steeled against the feelings of 
humanity. Kis fidelity in this part of his duty was 
never unaccompanied with compassion and sorrow. 
He possessed the firmness of Daniel, with all the be- 
nevolence of that favored prophet. Daniel was once 
directed to interpret and apply to Nebuchadnezzar a 
mysterious vission of divine vengeance, and the fide- 
lity, with which he performed so painful a duty, is 
worthy of admiration. But while his interpretation 
was plain and his application pointed, it is observa- 
ble, that they were preceded by evident regret, and 
followed by affectionate counsel. Such was the man- 
ner of M.. de la Flechere, who had learned, from a 
greater than Daniel, to pronounce a sentence of con- 
demnation with anguish and tears. Luke xix. 41. 

But while he was faithful, in proclaiming the day 
of vengeance to the disobedient, he neglected not to 
proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the 
prison to them that were bound. Both these parts of 
his duty he performed with fidelity, but the latter on- 
ly with alacrity and cheerfulness* Peculiarly to fit 




19$ 



him for this evangelical service, the Lord God had giv- 
en him the tongue of the learned, that he should know 
how to speak a word, in season to hi?n that was weary ; 
and in the discharge of this favourite part of his office, 
he was equally skilful, tender, and happy, His 
■watchful eye was upon the weak, the faint, and the 
afflicted. He diligently acquainted himself with the 
nature and causes of their distress : and whether they 
fainted through the anguish of remorse, or groaned 
beneath the violence of temptation, he had a suitable 
cordial prepared for their relief. He placed before 
their eyes a rich display of God's everlasting love, and 
assisted them to extract healing virtue from his un- 
changeable promises. He feelingly exhorted them 
to stretch out the withered hand ; and, till they were 
enabled actually to lay hold on the hope set before them. y 
he ceased not to proclaim, The Lord, the Lord ' God r , 
merciful and gracious, long-suffering, abundant in good- 
ness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving 
imquittf ) transgression, and sin ! He was thorough- 
ly acquainted with the treatment of afflicted consci- 
ences. He knew when to probe, and when to heal ; 
when to depress, and when to encourage : and no 
man's case was so perplexed or desperate, but he was 
in some measure prepared to explain and relieve it. 
He discovered hope for the spiritual mourner amid 
the most hopeless circumstances, and furnished the 
tempted with a clew to guide them through the intri- 
cacies of their situation. As the psalmist addressed 
his own heart in distress, so he addressed himself to 
every son of affliction, in the day of his trouble. Pie 
reasoned over the particular case of the afflicted per* 



200 



son.. ..Why art thou so full of heaviness, avdnvhy is thy 
soul so disquieted within thee ? art thou afflicted be- 
yond ifhe common lot of thy companions in tribula- 
tion, or has any temptation befallen thee, except such 
as is common to man ? From reasoning he proceeded 
to encouragement.. ..Hope thou in God: reflect upon 
his nature, depend upon his word, and ask of the 
generations that are past, whoever trusted in the 
Lord and was confounded ? From encouragement he 
rose to assurrance....T/2ow shah yet praise him, notwith- 
standing the present unpromising appearances : the 
God of all consolation shall be thy God, the health of 
thy countenance, and thy portion for ever. 

He was ever anxiously desirous, that the voice of 
$oy and health might be heard in the dwellings of the 
righteous ; nor would he be contented, till he could 
prevail upon the sorrowful to bear some harmonious 
part in the work of adoration and thanksgiving. But 
it is impossible to give a just jepresentation of the 
sweet and condescending manner, in which he treated 
every spiritual mourner. He would take up their 
neglected harps and tune them to the praises of un- 
changeable love. He would furnish them with a va- 
riety of sacred themes, and solicit them, at least, to 
attempt one of the songs of Sion. And while they 
lingered, he would sweetly take the lead in celebrat- 
ing the divine goodness... .Now he recorded mercies 
past, and now he recounted promised blessings ; 
now he sung the wonders of grace, and now he point- 
ed to the mysteries of glory. But if it appeared, af- 
ter all these animating efforts on his part, that the 



201 



mourners among his people were unable to accompa- 
ny him in these joyful exercises, he would suddenly 
change his song of praise into a strain of supplication, 
and earnestly implore for them the light of his gra- 
cious countenance, whose prerogative it is, to appoint 
beauty for ashes , the oil of joy for mournings and the 
garment of 'praise for the spirit of heaviness. 

Thus, with all possible plainness and fidelity, this 
animated preacher administered the good word of 
God in his day and generation, whether it was a word 
of threatening to the careless and impenitent, or a 
word of consolation to the fearful and afflicted. 



NOTE XL 

Mis profound humility, 

HUMILITY is, at once, the ground-work and 
perfection of Christianity. Where this holy temper 
increases in the sotil, there every grace is propor- 
tionably carried toward a state of maturity ; but wher- 
ever this is wanting, there, sooner or later, every appear- 
ance of grace must wither and die : God rcsisteth the 
proud, but giveth grace unto the humble. Examples 
of deep humility are uncommon, even in the church 
of Christ : but among the rarest examples of this 
kind, M.de la Flechere must be allowed a distinguished 
place. From his natural disposition, perhaps no man 
had ever greater opposition to struggle against in his 



202 



progress to humility : but as few professors of religion 
were ever known to resist their natural propensities 
with so determined a resolution, few ever gained so 
complete a victory over themselves, as M. de la 
Flechere. Lowliness of mind was considered, by the 
generality of his friends, as the most distinguishing 
trait in the character of this great man ; and it may 
be truly asserted, that no person ever conversed with 
him, either at home or abroad, without being struck 
with the genuine meekness and simplicity of his 
whole carriage. This admirable disposition, which 
is lovely in the lowest of its possessors, was peculi- 
arly striking in him, where it appeared amidst an 
uncommon variety of accomplishments, and attend- 
ed with a tram of excellent graces. 

Wherever he appeared, he was seen, according 
to the advice of St. Peter, completely clothed in humi- 
liltxj : and though there was something, unhappily, 
singular, in this truly christian garb, yet its unaffect- 
ed comeliness was universally acknowledged and ad- 
mired. Many, who think it necessary to appear be- 
fore God in a state of humiliation, come forth from 
their closets and walk into the world, with an air of 
conscious superiority : as though it was possible, at 
the same time, to walk humbly before God, and haugh- 
tily in the presence of their fellow creatures. Eut 
the man, whose character I attempt to describe, was 
perfectly consistent with himself. Such as he ap- 
peared before God, in his private acts of devotion, 
such he appeared before men, in every part of social 
and public life. He aspired not after high things, 



2Q3 



but condescended to men of low estate. His family 
and connections, his attainments in science and in 
grace, with whatever else might be considered as 
tending to his advantage, he regarded as matters of 
trivial estimation ; while, in the lowliness of his 
heart, he adopted the language of the great apostle. 
God forbid, that I should glory , save in the Cross of 
our Lord Jesus Christy by rohom the world is crucified 
unto me, and I unto the world. In honor he pre- 
ferred all men before himself, and never appeared 
so perfectly satisfied with his station, as when his 
bumble employments bespoke him the servant of all. 
So unlimited was his condescension in this respect, 
that he esteemed no occupation too low or degrad- 
ing, by which he might benefit his neighbour, or 
by which he might testify respect either to God 
or man. I cannot forbear relating here a little 

circumstance, which may perhaps appear trifling to 
some, but which uncommonly affected me at the 
time it happened. M. de la Flechere was called out 
to attend the sick. In the mean-time a funeral was 
announced ; and I was happy to embrace an oppor- 
tunity of affording the least assistance to this ve- 
nerable man, in the course of his extensive labors. 
While I was engaged in reading the office on that 
occasion, 3VL de la Flechere, who had heard at a 
distance the call of the bells, hastily entered the 
church ; and ,as he passed up the aisle, observing 
that a young lad was officiating in the absence of 
the clerk, he instantly took his place, and went 
through the whole of the service with a degree of hu- 
mility and composure, that cannot be expressed. He 
afterwards assured me, that while he beheld me 



204 



kindly performing the duty of an absent minister, he 
could not observe the place of an inferior servant of 
the church improperly filled up, without attempting 
to supply it himself, with a greater degree of deco- 
rum and reverence. I shall close this note with an- 
other anecdote to the same purpose. While M. de 
la Flechere continued tutor to the young men at 
Tern-Hall, he usually attended the ministry of the 
Rev. Mr. Cartwright, pastor of a neighbouring 
church, a mam of whose piety and zeal he made fre- 
quent and honorable mention. It was the custom of 
this gentleman frequently to catechise in public the 
children of his parish. And on one of these occa- 
sions he requested that no person of maturer age, 
who stood in need of instruction, would esteem it a 
disgrace to appear in the number of the catechumens. 
When no one had condescension enough to occupy 
%> mean a station, M. de la Flechere left his seat, and 
with an air of unaffected modesty, took his place a- 
mong the children ; giving a public proof, by the 
ttepth of his humility, that he was in an advanced 
state ofpreparation for the highest degrees of exalta- 
lion* 



NOTE XII. 

The ing€7iuous manner, in which he acknowledged and 
repaired his errors. 

WHATEVER solicitude I might have to per- 
petuate the memory of those errors and failings, 



.235 



which haye at any time appeared in the character of 
M. de la Flechere, I should be utterly at a loss from 
what quarter to collect authentic documents, relative 
to this part of my subject. Had he ever sat down to 
a sketch of his own life, an undertaking to which he 
was repeatedly urged by a multitude of his friends, it 
is most probable the world would then have been 
presented with a large detail of those defects and in- 
discretions, which were scarcely apparent to any eye 
but his own. It is not meant to be insinuated here, 
that M. de la Flechere was entirely free from those 
imperfections and infirmities, by which, in different 
degrees, the most exalted characters have been tine- 
lured. But it may be safely affirmed, that those few 
imperfections were so out numbered and obscured by 
his uncommon excellencies, that they could not long 
detain the eye, even of malice itself. The only defect 
in his character, which ever fixed the attention even 
of those, who may be suspected to have passed by 
his merits without the regard they deserved, was a 
certain warmth, in his temper, which has appeared 
upon a variety of occasions. But with respect to 
this acknowledged warmth, it must be allowed by all, 
that it was at no time discoverable in him, except 
when he was called forth to act, either as a lover 
of truth, or a reprover of sin In these two charac- 
ters, indeed, he constantly appeared with a degree of 
zeal, which gave offence to many ; but which was 
entirely consistent with his high reputation for meek- 
ness and charity. He was not ashamed, however, 
epenlyto confess and bewail this apparent defect ; 
and if ever it betrayed him into an error, he dis- 



206 

coveted the utmost solicitude, till he could make 
some suitable reparation. I shall content myself with 
presenting the reader with two instances of his con* 
duct in this particular. 

In one period of his life, he considered himself 
obliged to wield the controversial pen. As the dis- 
pute was supposed to be of importance, so it was of 
long continuance, and maintained on all sides with a 
considerable degree of warmth. In the course of the 
controversy, it was objected against M. de la Flech- 
ere, that he managed the debate with an acrimoni- 
ous severity, which was equally ill adapted both to 
the nature of his cause, and the character ©f his op- 
ponents. Though this charge might have been re- 
torted upon some of his antagonists witU tenfold 
force, yet he frankly admitted it on their part, and 
stood self-abased amid the loudest plaudits of his 
friends. Before the dispute was completely termi- 
nated, his declining state of health obliged him to 
quit the kingdom, with very little hope of ever visit- 
ing it again. But he found it impossible to do this, 
without giving an intimation to his opponents, that 
he desired nothing so much as an opportunity of em- 
bracing them before his departure; that, all doc- 
trinal differences apart, he might testify his sincere 
regret on account of having given them the least dis- 
pleasure, and receive from them some condescend- 
ing assurance of reconciliation and geod-will. Those 
of his antagonists, who had generosity sufficient to ac- 
cept his invitation, were equally affected and refresh- 
ed by the solemn interview that succeeded. And 



207 

some of them, who before that time had no personal 
jaintance with him, expressed the highest satisfac- 
tion at being introduced to the company of one, Whose 
air and countenance bespoke him fitted rather for 
the society of angels, than the conversation of men. 

A second instance of the manner in which he ac- 
knowledged and repaired his errors, is as follows. 
While he was one day interring a corpse, he was sud- 
denly interrupted in his duty, by a voice of execra- 
tion and blasphemy. Instantly, with a look of holy 
indignation, he turned to that part of the multitude ? 
whence the voice appeared to proceed ; and singling 
out, as he supposed, the guilty person, he publicly re- 
buked her in terms as severe as the nature of the of- 
fence demanded. After the service was concluded, he 
received information that his rebuke hadbeen impro- 
perly directed. ...When he immediately recalled the 
people, who were then dispersing from the grave ; and 
pointingto the person, whom he had unwittingly injur- 
ed, he expressed the utmost concern at having confound- 
ed the innocent with the guilty, and declared, that as 
his error was public, so he desired publicly to solicit 
the pardon of the offended party. 

These may serve as sufficient proofs of the can- 
did and condescending manner, in which M. de la 
Flechere was accustomed to acknowledge and repair 
those unintentional errors, which neither his wisdom 
nor his piety could wholly prevent. 



SOS- 



NOTE XIII. 

His detestation of fiartysfiirit and division?, 

FULLY persuaded, that a house divided against 
itself cannot stand) M. de la FJecherewas anxious to 
maintain a state of uninterrupted peace and unanimi- 
ty in the household of God. As a fellow-citizen with 
the saints, he considered himself essentially interest- 
edin the weal or woe of his brethren, and was con- 
stantly observed, either mingling his tears with those 
who wept, or triumphing in the joy of those who re- 
joiced before God. Hence, he could not behold, as 
an unconcerned spectator, the distress, to which the 
church was exposed in his day, and the dissentions 
by which it was torn in peices ; but rather as a true 
disciple of that gracious Redeemer, who loved the 
churchy and gave himself for it. He was engaged, in- 
deed, in those greatdebates, whichdisturbedthe tran- 
quility of the religious world for so long a season ; and, 
during these sharp contests, he appeared, it is true, 
in the very front of the battle. To all who knew 
him, however,, it was sufficiently evident, that he en- 
tered not into the conflict with any design, either to 
signalize himself, or to establish the reputation of a 
party ; but rather to confirm and build up the church 
in her most holy faith. Zeal for God constrained 
him, upon this occasion, to take up a cross, which he 
regarded as almost insupportable ; and when he 
came forth from the retirement he loved, in the cha- 
racter of a public disputant, he came forth with the 
language of the evangelical prophet in his mouth i 




209 



For Ziorfs sake will I not hold my peace, and for Jeru- 
salem's sake will I not rest, until the righteousness 
thereof go forth as brightness, and the salvation thereof 
as a lamp that burneth. His attacks were con- 

stantly directed, not against the leaders of any particu- 
lar sect, but against the errors of every sect : and, in 
carrying on these attacks, he manifested a degree of 
impartiality and candor, which few have ever disco- 
vered in similar circumstances. While he cautiously 
exposed the apparent mistakes of his opponents, he 
put his own religious opinions to a fiery trial ; and 
whatever was unabled to stand the severest test, he 
considered as no better than vanity and dross* Like 
the apostle Paul, he could do nothing, knowingly a* 
gainst the truth, but for the truth: and en Whatever 
side this was discoverable, he sauted it with all that 
respect and veneration, which effectually distinguish- 
ed him as a lover of u-uth, 

Through *TO whole of the contest he treated Ih 
opponents w ith much deference and regard, cordial^ 
ly acknowledging them as brethren in Christ, ard 
constantly mentioning them as persons, whose piety 
and zeal could scarce be paralleled. lie ardently de- 
sired to embrace them, as his comftdmom in ihekirtr- 
dom and patience of their common Master ; and as a 
standing proof of his pacific disposition toward them, 
one of the last pieces he published in the controver- 
sy was entitled, The R&ofcctiMion ; a work; in which 
he urged the strongest motives to charity and con- 
cord, endeavouring, by every possible means, to pre- 
vail with the professing part of the world; to keep the 



210 



unity of the spirit in the bo?id of peace. The follow- 
ing passage, selected from that work, will sufficiently 
evince his utter detestation of party-spirit and divi- 
sions in the christian church. " Come with me, my 
u calvinian and arminian brethren, to ths temple of 
u peace, where the Lord's banner over you will be 
a love, and his mercy wfll comfort you on every side. 

If there be, therefore, any consolation in Christ, if a* 
" ny comfort of love, if any fellowship of the Spirit, if 
**- any bowels and mercies ; fulfil ye the joy of all, who 
" wish Sion's prosperity t. Be like minded, having the 
u same love, being of one accord, of one mind, submit- 
u ting yourselves one to another in the fear of God* 
H He is my record how greatly I long eft cr you all in the 

bowels of Jesus Christ, in whom there is neither Greek 
<* nor Jew, bondrtor free, neither calvinist nor armini- 
u an, but Christ is all in all. My heart is enlarged z 
u for a recompence in the same, y fce ye also enlarged, and 
$ grant me my humble... .perhaps my dying requests 
tt reject not my plea for peace. If it be not strong, it 
" is earnest .; for (considering my bodily weakness) I 
" write at the hazard of my life ; animamque in vufe 
" nere pona." 

Such v?as the catholic spirit discovered by this 
great man, in the warmest of his religious content 
tions ; such was the forbearance and affection, which, 
he constantly exerd?»ed toward the most zealous of 
his opposers ; and such was his anxious concern* 
that every inferior name might be lost in that exalted 
name, by which alone the world can be saved* 



\ 



211 



NOTE XIV, 

His rejection of firaise. 

AMONG all the candidates for human praise? 
trie re is none more conspicuous than the man, who 
exhibits, his pretensions to applause from the pulpit* 
Dishonorable as it: is to the cause of Christianity, the 
place, from, which humility and self-denial were for- 
merly recommended to the world, is frequently em- 
ployed by modern divines, as a stage, for the ostent?/* 
tious display of their superior parts and accomplish- 
ments. Preferring the praise of men, before the ho- 
nor that cometh from God, multitudes of pastors are 
more solicitous to be ranked with profound L theo- 
logists, elegant scholars, and masters of eloctstion 5 
than to be numbered among- the zealous and unaf* 
fected preachers of the everlasting Gospel.. They 
court the applause of the world, by seeking after, 
such qualifications as will naturally recommend them 
to its favor; while they secure themselves from its 
reproaches, by carefully avoiding whatever might 
tend to degrade them in its estimation. In short 9 
they are abundantly more solicitous for the advance- 
ment of their own reputation, than for the honor of 
their Master, or the increase of his kingdom. 

Between pastors of this description, and M. dela 
Flechere, the most distant resemblance was not to be 
discovered. The favor of God was his ultimate aim 
through life ; and, for the possession of so invaluable 
a privilege, lie was content to forego the riches, the 



212 



friendship, and even the good opinion, of the world. 
Despising the common pursuits of men, he aspired 
after that true greatness, which never yet excited the 
envy of the mighty, or the emulation of the ambitious. 
Whatsoever things are picre, whatsoever things are 
lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, in such 
things he was daily and diligently occupied ; not that 
the report of his virtues might raise his reputation a- 
mong men, but, rather, that he might become an 
example to the believers, in word, in conversation, in 
charity, in faith, in spirit, in purity. Though few 
men have ever had so just a claim as himself to uni- 
versal approbation, yet no man ever appeared so 
perfectly .deaf to the Syren voice of admiration and 
praise. He permitted nothing to.be related in his 
presence, that apparently tended to his advantage. 
He could hear his actions censured, his opinions con- 
demned, and his character traduced, with an aston- 
ishing degree of silent composure. But if at any 
time his virtues or abilities were mentioned, with the 
least appearance of respect, he would instantly put a 
stop to the conversation, with an air of severity, 
which he seldom assumed upon any other occasion. 
On matters of this nature, he resolutely refused to 
hear the voice of the charmer, with whatever discre- 
tion and delicacy the subject might be attempted, 
He counted himself no better than an unprofitable ser- 
vant ; and, as such, it was an invariable rule with him, 
in every company, to take the lowest seat, which he 
occupied, not as a man, who was conscious that hia 
merits entitled him to a more honorable place, but 



213 



rather as one, who considered himself unworthy the 
favour of Ged,orthe notice of man. 

As an ambassador of Jesus Christ, he sought not 
his own honor, but the honor of him that sent him. 
Neither exalted by the grace he had received, nor ela- 
ted with his success in the ministry, he still opened 
his commission in every place, in the lowly manner 
of the great apostle . Unto me, who am less than the 
least of all saints, is this grace given, that I should 
preach the unsearchable riches of Christ, He counted 
nothing, either upon his attainments or his talents. 
Instead of endeavouring to make a pompous display 
of his excellencies5.be studiously concealed them from 
the notice of the world : and whether he was enga- 
ged in planting with Paul, or in watering with Apol- 
los, he sought to turn every eye from the person of 
the laborer, to the presence of that God, who alone 
can give the increase. Far from courting the ap- 
plause of a world in which his Lord had been public- 
ly despised and rejected, he was sincerely disposed to 
drink of the cup, and to be baptized with the baptism? 
of his Master. Instead of toiling for the triumphs of 
vain glory he inured himself to bear the reproach of 
the cross ; and instead of soliciting the smiles of the 
world he prepared himself to endure the contradic- 
tions of sinners. Fully pursuaded, that it is enough for 
the disci/de that he be as his master, he sought after an 
entire conformity to the mind and character of his 
Lord. Though formed to preside, he voluntarily 
took upon himself the form of a servant, and submit- 
ted to the lowest offices of condescension and charity* 



214 



Though capable, as a preacher, of fixing the atten- 
tion and raising the admiration of the mukitude, he 
absolutely renounced all pretentions to regard, and 
modestly made himself of no reputation. As a proof 
that he was not ambitious, either of the uppermost 
seats in synagogues, or of honorable salutations in 
plates of public resort, he labored for the church in 
astate of comparative retirement and obscurity : mani- 
festly evidencing to all around him, that he came 
not to be ministered unto, but to minister. In this un- 
envied situation of his choice, he spent the laborious 
daysof a useful !ife,as unknown, yet well-known; as sor- 
rowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many 
rich ; as having nothing, and yet possessing all things, 
Thus, by a patient continuance in well-doing, he sought 
for glory, honor, and immortality, unnoticed by the 
ambitious and the vain, but eminently conspicuous 
among those 5 whose praise is not of men, but ef GocL- 



NOTE XV. 

His u?iivei*sal love* 

HE that dwelleth in love, dweUeth in God, and 
God in him. This distinguishing mark of an indwell- 
ing Deity was strikingly apparent in the person and 
character of M. de la Flechere. His person present- 
ed the fairest indications, and his character afforded 
the strongest testimonies, of benevolence and chan- 
ty. His love was free and unconflned, uninterrupt- 



215 



ed by prejudice, and unmixed with suspicion. He 
had a place in his large and generous heart for per- 
sons of every description. He considered himself 
as related to the inhabitants of every nation, and con- 
nected with the members of every church ; appear- 
ing, in every sense, as a citizen c-f the world, honor- 
ing the whole human race as the offspring of God, 
^and encircling them with the arms of brotherly af- 
fection, however distinguished from one another by 
situation or endowments, opinions or habits. He 
never left his beloved retirement, which was render- 
ed sacred by converse with the highest object of his 
affections, unless he was called abroad upon errands 
of kindnessr and mercy. And whenever he came 
forth into the world, he looked upon all around «him, 
with an air of benignity, and a glow of affection, 
which strongly marked him as a follower of that God, 
nvho is loving unto every man^ and whose mercy is over 
all his works. Instead of enquiring with the law- 
yer in the Gospel, Who is my neighbour? he acted 
like the good Samaritan, treating -even the stranger 
and the outcast, as he journeyed through life, with 
the kindness of a neighbour, the sympathy of a friend, 
and the tenderness of a brother. While self-love 
may be likened to a stagnant lake, the charity of this 
-self-renouncing pastor may be fitly compared to a 
copious river, which, after enriching a multitude of 
towns, villages, and hamlets, and after fertilizing a 
thousand fields, loses itself in the bosom of the ocean, 
from whence it sprung. And here it may be pro- 
perly observed, that this noble current was sufficient- 



Ti6 

ly deep*to sustain any burden and sufficiently rapid 
to force itself a passage through every obstruction. 

His love was without dissimulation^ not hi ivord r 
neither in tongne, but in deed and in truth. It was lar- 
ger than his largest professions, and appeared, on dif- 
ferent occasions, in a vast variety of forms, in conde- 
scention,in compassion, in hospitality, in forbearance, 
in kindness and in liberality. By these benevolent 
dispositions, together with those affectionate labors, 
in which he was constantly employed, he gave the 
most convincing proofs, that he was rotted and 
grounded in that universal love } which is the fulfilling 
of the whole la%v. 

NOTE XVI. 

Sis particular love to the faithful, 

TO love any thing, which in itself is unamiable 
and impure, is altogether contrary to the spirit and 
profession of Christianity. The pure in heart are ena- 
bled to discover something of God in every man : 
and as the Deity is the supreme object of their af* 
fections, their love to every particular person is in pro- 
portion to the different degrees, in which they seve- 
rally shadow forth the excellencies and perfection of 
the Creator. Hence, though M. -de la Flechere 
co old look upon every individual of the human race 
yath emotions of benevolence and charity, yet^e was 



air 

in an especial manner attached to such as were qfthe 
household of faith. In those, he discovered the image 
of the Deity defaced and obscured, yet meriting atten- 
tion even in rains : in these he beheld the same image 
expressed with purity and grace sufficient to excite in 
him the highest degrees of admiration and love..,.. 
His fellowship with persons of this latter description 
was intimate and unreserved. He saluted them as 
the children of God, and honored them as heirs of an 
eternal inheritance. These were the companions 
of his choice, both in public and in private: with 
these he took sweet and solemn counsel, and with these 
he rejoiced to worship in the house of God. Whe- 
ther they were poor or rich, illiterate or learned, bond 
or free, he considered them as fellow-partakers of the 
same grace, and received them, without partiality, as 
the redeemed of the Lord. He constantly watched 
over them for good, and eagerly embraced every op- 
portunity of rendering them acceptable service. He 
bore their burdens, he distributed to their necessities, 
he covered their defects, and healed their divisions. 
Esteeming all the children of God as members one of 
another, his catholic spirit disdained those unnatural 
partitions, by which different parties of christians have 
endeavoured to separate themselves from each other. 
Sincere worshippers, of every denomination, he re- 
garded as fellow-citizens with the saints, and qfthe house- 
hold of God; desiring no greater honor, than to be 
-counted as their brother, and commanded as their 
servant. The following are his own expressions, 
extracted from a tract already referred to in a pre- 
* ceeding note. " God forbid, that I should exclude 



218 



4i from my brotherly affection, and occasional assis- 
* tance, any true minister of Christ, because he casts 
4< the Gospel net among the Presbyterians, the Inde- 
H pendents, the Quakers, or the Baptists ! II they will 
H not wish me good luck in the name of the Lord, I 
H will do it to them. They may excommunicate me, 
if their prejudices prompt them to it ; they may 
H build up a wall of partition between themselves and 
" me ; but, in the strength of my God, whose love is 
w as boundless as his immensity, I will leap, over the 
" wall" Extraordinary as these declarations 

may appear, they are not to be considered, as the 
professions of an affected generosity, but as the sin- 
cere expressions of & heart overflowing with brother- 
ly love. 

Such was the christian charity of this truly admi- 
rable man, which, in spite of all the impediments that 
could be thrown in its way, was improved to an al- 
most incredible degree of maturity... .A never failing 
charity, which taught him to overlook the coldness 
and contempt of his unloving brethren... .An exube- 
rant charity, which enabled him to address all the 
differing classes of christians, in the language of his 
Master : Whosoever shall do the nvill of my Father, 
nvho is in heaven^ the same is my brother y a?id shter, and 
mother. 



NOTE XVII. 

His love to those whose faith was wavering. 

THE weak and the wavering have, in every 
age, outnumbered the vigorous and unshaken profes- 
sors of Christianity. M. de laFlecherebeholdin his day, 
with inexpressible concern, the increasing class of 
unsteady believers: but, while he bewailed their in- 
stability, he allowed them an ample share in his affec- 
tion. Far from despising the day of small things, 
he labored, with the most affectionate solicitude, to^ 
strengthen the weak ha?zd } and confirm the feeble knee y 
of every wavering professor. His anxiety for their 
advancement in grace was discovered in every possi- 
ble way, and his whole deportment toward them was 
marked with unusual tenderness and regard. He 
followed them with unwearied attention, till he could 
discover the particular causes of their spiritual decay : 
and when these were once ascertained, he employed 
the most laborious efforts for their removal. He 
carefully acquainted himself with the peculiar cir- 
cumstances and disposition of the unstable party, 
skilfully adapting both his language and his manner 
to the nature of their past attainments, and their pre- 
sent deficiencies. He argued against their fears, he 
satisfied their doubts, he bewailed their hike warm - 
Ress, and reminded them of their privileges; intreat- 
ing or rebuking, consoling or censuring them, with 
all long-suffering. In the mean time, he not only 
avoided in his own conduct, whatever might have a 
tendency to offend or unsettle their minds, but ad- 
monished the stronger brethren to maintain toward 



220 



Iheir feeble companions, a carriage regulated by more 
than ordinary circumspection and kindness. 

Thus after having used every generous endea- 
vour for the restoration of the weak, and after having 
removed every apparent obstacle from their path, in 
the spirit of supplication and prayer he would watch 
for their return. And whenever he perceived in 
them the first indications of a holy resolution, it can- 
not be told with what meltings of heart he would fly 
to embrace them ; how graciously he would conde- 
scend to their weakness, how carefully he would 
support their steps, and with how much affectionate 
counsel he would guide them in the way. On these 
occasions, especially, he put on bsivels of mercies^ 
ki?idne&e, humbleness of mind, meekness andforbearance^ 
exhibiting through his whole conduct a lovely imita- 
tion of that great Shepherd, who gathers the lambs 
with his arms) and gently leads those that are nmth 
young. 

NOTE XVIII. 

His love to his countmjmen and his enemies-. 

ON account of that civil and religious liberty,, 
which no other kingdom upon earth can boast, Eng- 
land became the adopted country of M. de la Flech- 
ere. But while he spent a laborious life among the 
iahabitants of this favored island,, his affections were 



far from being totally alienated from the country of 
his nativity. He constantly took a brotherly part in 
the affairs of his countrymen and manifested a rest- 
less solicitude for the advancement of their highest 
interests. Less concerned for their reputation as a 
state, than for their superiority as a church, his high- 
est wishes for their welfare are aptly expressed in the 
language of St. Paul: Only let ijour conversation be as 
it becometh the Gospel of Christ: that whether I come 
and see you 9 or else be absent, I may hear of your affairs*, 
that ye stand fast in one spirit 9 voith one mind striving 
together for the faith of the gospel. During his abode 
in England, his attachment to his absent countrymen 
was daily expressed in fervent prayer, and frequently 
in affectionate epistles addressed to those among 
them, whose situation and abilities might have ren- 
dered them eminently useful to the church. When 
present with them, his affectionate concern for their 
happiness was evinced by the most indefatigable ex- 
ertions for their advancement in religion and virtue. 
Though he seldom visited the place of his nativity? 
except, to all appearance, in dying circumstances, yet 
even in those seasons, the intreaties of friends, the 
advice of physicians, together with his bodily infirmi- 
ties, were found insufficient to restrain him from the 
exercise of his ministry. His manner of employing 
himself in these visits, is modestly expressed in an 
apology, which he once thought it necessary to make 
for his conduct upon those occasions ; from which 
the following passage is extracted. " Affiicted with 
" a dangerous disease, and obliged to entrust the care 
* of my church to a substitute, with the permission 

T 2 



222 



* of my superiors, I came to this place, on a visit t<* 
" my kinsmen, and especially for the purpose of 
44 breathing my native air, which, the physicians, af- 
M ter having already exhausted their art in my fa- 
14 vor, considered as the last remedy that remained to 
44 be tried with any hope of success. Upon my arri- 
val, the pastors of Nyon, to the first of whom I 
44 have had the honor of being known for these six 
" and thirty years, obligingly offered me the use of 
44 their pulpits^ if my heaRh would permit me to 
M preach. But, after appointing different days, on 
" which I hoped to have taken the advantage of their 
44 friendly offers, by repeated returns of my weak- 
44 ness, I was prevented from fulfilling my engage- 
44 ments. I have, however, preached three or four 
44 times : but observing in myself, during those exer- 
14 cises, a want of strength to occupy the pulpit with 
a that power and dignity, which are expected in a 
44 preacher who appears before a polished audience, 
44 I considered it rather as my duty, with the permis- 
44 sion, and under the inspection, of our pastors, with- 

* out ascending the pulpit, to give some familiar in- 
** structions to such children and others, as were dis- 
« posed to receive them ; offering in a room, from time 

* time, occasional reflections, either upon some book 

44 of piety, or some passage of Holy Scripture." 

Suclvvvxre his customary employments during the 
several seasons of his temporary residence at Nyon. 
And to these pious exercises he devoted his little re- 
maining strength with that assiduity and persever- 
ance, which abundantly manifested how little he re- 
garded either ease or health, when they came in com* 



petiton with die advantage and welfare of his cottii- 
trymen. But, while he engaged himself with so 
much zeal in the service of his countrymen at large? 
among his kinsmen and friends his benevolent labors 
were still more abundant. He expressed the most 
vehement desires, and employed the most strenuous 
efforts, that the whole circle of his friends might be- 
come a ^to^X^ fearing God, and working righteousness . 
He admonished them with the authority of a minis- 
ter, and intreated them with the gentleness of a" bro- 
ther, mixing both his admonitions and mtreaties 
with many affectionate tears. When he perceived* 
in any of them an inclination to linger, either in the 
darkness of deism, or in the mazes of dissipation, like 
the deliverers of Lot, he would stretch out his hand* 
and endeavour, with a pious violence, to rescue them 
from the dangers to which they were exposed. And, 
on the other hand, when he discovered in any of his 
friends the least discernible tokens, either of godly 
sorrow, or of holy desire, he would give a loose to 
the fervors of that holy joy, which is manifested, 
on similar occasions, in the presence of the Angels of 
God. But, perhaps, it is impossible to give 

any just idea of the extraordinary concern he ex- 
pressed for the establishment of his near relations in 
the faith of the Gospel, except in his own words. 
The following passages translated from an epistle, 
which he formerly addressed to his brother, the As* 
sessor, will set this amiable part of his disposition in 
a just point of view. After lamenting, that he had 
passed so great a part of his own life in the vain pur- 
suits of the world, he continues....' 4 And arc you nut 



224 



« constrained, my dear brother, to make the same la- 
" mentations with me ? Yes, I cannot but indulge 
" a hope, that God will hear my prayers, that he 
" will have some regard to the tears with which I 
" wet this paper, and that, while you are reading 
K these lines, his grace will operate upon your heart. 
" If you did but know, how much joy there would be 
" in Heaven for your conversion ; if you could but 
" conceive, what transports of gratitude would over- 
" flow your heart and mine ; if you were but sen si- 
" ble, how my bowels are moved for you ; surely then, 
" without a moment's delay, you would submit to 
" the grace of that Saviour, who is even now speak - 
" ing in your heart. And can you still hold out, my 
u dear brother ? And are you so entire an enemy to 
" your own happiness, so insensible, so hard, as to de- 
" cline making a full surrender of yourself to God ? 
« I will hope better things of you, through the grace 
" of our common Saviour, O may that grace over- 
w whelm thy heart, and melt down all thy hardness f 
" ....As we are of one blood, let us also be of one 
* heart and one soul. Do not reject, I conjure you, 
" my brotherly counsels and supplications. I confess, 
" that if you have respect merely to me in this mat- 
" ter, you have some reasonable ground for rejecting 
u my solicitations, since you have formerly been a wit- 
" ness to my impiety and abominations * ; and I know 
not, whether I have not more than once attempt- 



* These harsh expressions relate to some trifling circunv 
stances which happened in his childhood- 



225 



ed to corrupt your virtue. Pardon me, I conjure you, 
" pardon me : forget what is past, and do not attempt 
*• to form a judgment of what I now write, by any 
4< thing which, at other times, you have discovered in 
K me. Do not refuse to come, where so much felici-* 
H ty awaits you, because pressed to it by a person, 
" who is unworthy to bring you the invitation. We 
f have passed our infancy and our youth beneath the 
" same roof, and under the same masters. We have 
" borne the same fatigues, and tasted the same plea- 
" sures. Why then should we be separated now ? 
« Why should they be divided, who, by nature, habit, 
" and friendship, have been so long united ?....Ihave 
w undertaken a journey to the new Jerusalem : O 
" suffer me not to go thither alone. Let neither the 
" fatigues, nor the length of the way, affright you. 
w We shall be provided, even in the desert, with hea- 
M venly manna and streams of living water. God 
" himself shall go before us, as in a pillar of fire ; and 
" under the protection of his wings, we may walk 
" without fear, through the -valley of the shadow of death. 
u ,».Come then, my dear brother ! I am most ua- 
" willing to leave you behind. Come ; support me ; 
" go before me ; encourage me ; shew me the way : 
w I feel the want of a faithful companion and a chris- 
" tian friend. Suffer me to throw myself at your 
" feet, to embrace your knees, and to wash them 
11 with the tears, which are now streaming from my 
" eyes. ...I ask no part of your temporal possessions: 
" but I entreat you to seek after an eternal inherit* 
" ance. I desire neither your gold, nor you? silver i 
" but I ana anxious that you should share my joy. 



226 



" I am solicitous that you should accompany me t& 
44 Mount Sioti) to the city of the living God.. .that you 
" should mix in that innumerable company of Angels^ 
44 who worship there and be counted in the general as- 
44 sembly and the church of first-born.. ..In short ; I 
44 am anxious, my dear brother, that you should come 
44 with me, to have your name written in the book of 
44 life, and be made free of that holy city, which shall 

14 one day descend from God out of Heaven 

44 I have a fire -sentiment, that you will, at last, sub- 
a mit to the easy yoke of Christ, and that, after 
11 you are converted, you will strengthen your bre- 
w thren. Do not tell me again, that piety 

44 is usually the portion of younger brothers ; since 
14 I read in the old Testament, that every firsts 
44 born male should be consecrated, in a peculiar 
14 manner, to God. Let me rather intreat you to 
44 take the advantage of your situation, Be, at least* 
44 as far beyond me in piety, as you are in years : 
44 and, instead of feeling any jealousy upon this ac- 
" count, my pleasure will be augmented in the great 
44 day of our Lord Jesus Christ, to see myself placed 
14 at your feet." 

These quotations may serve as a specimen of 
the manner, in which M. de la Flechere was accus- 
tomed to express his ardent desire, in different de- 
grees, for the spiritual prosperity of his countrymen, 
his friends, and his brethren. 

The highest degrees of piety are found insuffi- 
cient to secure a man from the reproaches of the 



227 



world, On the contrary, religion and virtue, when 
carried to an extraordinary pitch of excellence, have 
generally exposed the possessors of them to the 
slanders of malevolence, and the rigors of persecu- 
tion. The situation of M. de la Flechere, with re- 
spect to the unworthy part of his parishioners, was 
similar to the situation of Daniel, with respect to the 
Babylonish courtiers : his whole conduct was so ad- 
mirably regulated by circumspection and prudence, 
that malice itself could find no occasion against him, 
except concerning the Law of his God, The voluptu- 
ary detested his temperance and self-denial ; the 
man of pride poured contempt upon his humility and 
condescension ; the licentious were offended at his 
•gravity and strictness^ and the formal were roused 
to indignation by that spirit of zeal and devotion, 
which influenced his whole conversation and conduct, 
Ali of these, however they might differ among them- 
selves, were leagued together as the inveterate ene- 
mies of this venerable pastor. They wrested his 
words, they misrepresented hk actions, and cast out 
his name as evil. But, whatever he was called to 
suffer from the malice and opposition of his ene- 
mies, he endured it all with the utmost magnanimi- 
ty and composure, not rendering evil for evil, or raiU 
ing for railing ; but, contrariwise, blessing. While 
some indignant professors are ready, with James and 
John, to command fire from heaven for the destruction 
of their opposers ; and while others are enquiring; 
with Peter, how often they are to meet their offend- 
iiigbrethren with unfeigned forgiveness, he^gavc him- 



223 



-self an example of that uncommon charity, which 
suffereth long, and is kind ; which is not easily provok- 
ed, and thinketh no evil. When he ivas reviled, he re- 
reviled not again ; when he suffered, he ihreatenednot ; 
but committed himself to Him that judgeth righteously. 

Whether he was insulted in his person, or injur- 
ed in his property ; whether he was attacked with 
open abuse, or pursued by secret calumny ; through 
the testimony of a good conscience, he walked amid 
the most violent assaults of his enemies, as a man 
completely invulnerable ; and while his firmness dis- 
covered, that he was unhurt, his forbearance testifi- 
ed, that he was unoffended. His love was truly 
unconquerable : the cold waters of disrespect could 
not quench it, neither could floods of reproach drown 
it. Being reviled, he blessed ; being persecuted, he 
suffered it ; being defamed he intreated ; provoking 
his enemies by every affectionate method, to love and 
good works. Whenever he discerned a virtue 

in the character of an adversary, he commended it, 
he magnified it, he rejoiced over it, and endeavour- 
ed to make it a medium of reconciliation. When- 
ever he discovered an enemy in distress, he hasten- 
ed to meet him with tokens of generosity and kind* 
ness.,.. if he hungered, he fed Mm ; if he thirsted, he 
gave him drink; if he was oppressed, he maintained 
his cause ; if his heart was brought down through 
heaviness, he endeavoured to support and console 
him; embracing, with thankfulness, every possible 
opportunity of heaping coals of fire ujion !d$ head* 



229 

It would be unpardonable in me to close this note, 
without observing, that the invincible love of this chari- 
table pastor was honored with many happy triumphs 
over the prejudice and malignity of his opposers. 
The labors of his condescending affection were suc- 
cessful in a variety of instances. He outlived the 
persecuting spirit of his principal enemies, and saw 
many who had withstood the vehemence of his zeal, 
entirely melted down with the fervor of his love. 
The most liberal of his opposers became his steady 
adherents, and the most stubborn of his adversaries 
were constrained to bear unwilling testimony to the 
christian superiority of his character. 

NOTE XIX. 

His love to those , whom he knew only by refiorU 

WHILE M. de la Flechere was attached in 
^.n extraordinary manner to those, among whom he 
was appointed ta labor, his heart was uncommonly 
enlarged toward all the children of God, by what- 
ever name they were distinguished* or wherever the 
bounds of their habitation were fixed. Considering 
himself as a debtor both to the Greeks, and to the 
Barbarians, he was ready, had it been possible, t<* 
have visited the uttermost parts of the earth with 
the truths of the Gospel : and wherever a christian 
church was established, he appeared deeply interested 
ia its welfare, expressing a vehement desire, that it 

IT 



230 



might be regulated in all things as the house of God, 
and hecome, to happy thousands, the gate of Ilea- 
ren. When the members of any distant church were 
represented, as exemplary for their faith, their zeal, - 
or their love, he received the report of their ad- 
vancement in grace with demonstrations of the sin- 
cerest joy, and publicly expressed his gratitude to 
that great Master of assemblies, who hath pleasure in 
the prosperity of his servants. When the professors 
of Christianity, in any part of the world, were obser- 
ved to grow weary of well-doing, either declining 
from the faith of the Gospel, or neglecting to walk 
worthy of their high vocation ; his heart was pene- 
trated, on their account, with the most lively con- 
cern ; he lamented their instability in seeret, and 
watered his couch with his tears. When the spiri- 
tual vine, in some remote part of the vineyard, ap- 
peared to be in danger from the fury of the oppres- 
sor, when her hedges were broken down and her 
fruit torn away by the hand of persecution, he enter- 
ed deeply into the distresses of the suffering church ; 
he fasted, he wept, he prayed, making continual in- 
tercession before the great Lord of the vineyard, that 
he would look down from Heaven, and visit the plant, 
which he had formerly strengthened for himself, that, 
spreading forth it!? boughs again unto the sea, and its 
branches unto the river, the hills might be covered 
with the shadow of it, and the land be filled with its 
fruits. 

Sympathy, however, was not the only proof of 
his love toward those, whom he knew merely by 



report : that love was frequently testified by affec- 
tionate counsel, and, whenever it was practicable 5 
by personal assistance. Passing some years ago 
* through the south of France, he expressed a long- 
ing desire to visit the protestants in the Sevennes 
mountains, whose fathers had suffered so greatly in 
the cause of godliness. To converse with the child- 
ren of those, who had laid down their lives in de- 
fence of the truth, was a privilege not to be de- 
spised by a man, who never lost an opportunity of 
conversing with a righteous person, without lament- 
ing it as a real misfortune. Though the journey 
was long and difficult, yet no argument could pre- 
vail with him to give up his resolution of attempt- 
ing it on foot. " Shall V said he to his friend, 
" make a visit on horseback, and at ease, to those 
" poor cottagers, whose fathers were hunted along 
" yonder rocks, like partridges upon the mountains ? 
" No ; in order to secure a more friendly recep- 
" tion among them, I will visit them under the 
" plainest appearance, and with my staff in my 
" hand." Accordingly he set out alone on this chris- 
tian expedition ; and, after travelling till it was nearly 
dark, he came to a small house, where he request- 
ed the favour of sitting up in a chair till the morning. 
It was not without some hesitation that the master 
of the cottage consented to receive him ; after which 
he immediately entered into discourse with his host 
and his wife, who were so much charmed with the 
conversation and manners of their guest, that they 
considered the richest provisions their house could af- 
ford, as too mean to be set before him. After a 



232 



hasty repast, the conversation was continued on th* 
part of M. de la Flechere, and attended to fey the 
children, as well as by their parents, with a degree 
of eagerness, which discovered their desire after re- 
ligious instruction. Before they retired to rest, pray- 
er was proposed : a»d while this holy man was en- 
i ed in pouring out his fervent supplication before 
God, the family around him were uncommonly af- 
fected, melted into tears, and filled with holy admi- 
ration. Early on the morrow, while he repeated his 
exhortations and renewed his prayers, he was listen- 
ed to with the same veneration and earnestness : 
when, taking an affectionate leave of the family, he 
left the whole houshold in a state of astonishment and 
concern. This little relation was taken from the 
poor man himself, who immediately gave it out a- 
mong his neighbours, that he had nearly refused to 
admit a stranger into his house, who proved to be 
rather an angel than a man. This family was of the 
Romish church. 

Continuing his journey, M. de la Flechere reach- 
ed a little town, where he was entertained by a pious 
minister, to whom he had been reeommended. Here 
he was received by the serious protestants with open 
arms, among whom he exercised his ministry with 
much freedom and success. He conversed with 
their ciders, he admonished their youth, he visited 
their sick, diligently exhorting and instructing them 
from house to house, while many among them were 
comforted, and many built up in their most holy faith. 
In the course of his progress through these nioun- 



238 



tains, he put up at a little house, where his landlord 
was one of those persons, who seldom utter a word 
unaccompanied by an oath. Our benevolent travel- 
ler addressed this unthinking creature in his usual 
pointed and pathetic manner ; and not without effect. 
His heart was deeply penetrated with the deserved 
rebuke, he confessed his error, and expressed a se- 
rious concern for the irregularity and profaneness of 
his past conduct. M. de la Fie there had many op- 
portunities in this family for the pious exercises of 
admonition and prayer; and, from the time of his 
sojourning among them, an uncommon reformation 
was apparent in the conversation and manners of his 
host. It has since appeared, that the solemn exhor- 
tations he received, during this season, were atten- 
ded with so extraordinary an effect upon thrs poor 
man, that, if on any future occasion he discovered an 
unholy warmth in his temper, nothing more was ne- 
cessary to produce an immediate calm in his mind, 
than the bare recollection of that venerable stranger, 
who had once lodged beneath his roof. 

This tedious journey (of which a mucfe more 
circumstantial account might be given) while it evin- 
ced the love of this indefatigable pastor to those, 
whom he knew only by report, was productive of the 
happiest consequences to those who attended his min- 
istry upon this occasion, and, especially, to those^ wh© 
entertained him in their families. 



254 



NOTE XX. 

Hi* charity toward the floor ^ in giving^ or firocuring 
for them j tem/wral relief. 

AS the parish of Madeley was uncommonly 
populous, so it abounded with persons, who, either 
through infirmity or misfortune, were reduced to a 
state of indigence and distress. Over this despised 
and destitute part of his flock M. de la Flechere was 
accustomed to watch, with unusual attention and con- 
cern. He regarded them as his peculiar charge, 
and exerted himself to the utmost for their encou- 
ragement and support. Not content with freely 
offering them the consolations of the gospel, he 
contributed largely to the relief of their temporal 
necessities, and generally divided among them the 
greater part of his income. He sought them out 
with the most industrious care, and expressed a great 
degree of thankfulness to any person, who would* 
direct him to the abodes of wretchedness and poverty. 
To such abodes, indeed, he was seldom a stranger* 
nor could any censideration prevail with him to pass. 
them by, withottt attempting to dry up the tears, 
and supply the wants, of their afflicted inhabitants. 
His daily Walks were among the fatherless and the 
widows, the friendless and the oppressed: and while 
he counted it his indispensible duty to labour for 
their relief, he considered that very labor, as one of 
the sublimest pleasures he was capable of enjoying, 
The profusion of his charity toward the poor and 
l^eedy is scarcely credible: it constantly exhausted 



235 



his purse, it frequently unfurnished his house, and 
sometimes left him destitute of the most common 
necessaries. He was accustomed to make an ex- 
change of state with his indigent brethren, freely 
bartering his ease for their woe, and his plenty for 
their penury. That he might feed the hungry, he 
led a life of abstinence and self-denial ; that he 
might cover the naked, he clothed himself in the 
most homely attire; and that he might cherish 
such as were perishing in a state of extreme 
distress, he submitted to hardships of a very trying 
nature. But it is impossible to declare in how many 
ways he discovered his tenderness toward the friend- 
less, and to how many inconvenienceis he cheerfully 
exposed himself, for the alleviation of their various 
distresses. He followed them to the most secret 
scenes of their wretchedness, and in all their afflic- 
tions he was afflicted ; he literally bore their several 
burdens, and freely drank of their sorrowful cup* 
that he might make room in it for a mixture of con- 
solation and joy. He was eyes to the blind, and feeC 
to the lame ; he was a father to the poor, and a friend 
to him that had no helper ; the blessing of such as were 
ready to perish came upon him, and he caused the 
widow's heart to sing for joy. Such was the atten- 
tion of this compassionate pastor to the necessitous 
among his people, and such was the liberality which 
he exercised toward them, to the close of his life ; 
when a concern for their welfare accompanied him 
to his death-bed, where he tenderly bewailed their 
distresses, and earnestly recommended them to the 
favor of that God, who hath promised, that the fiaox 
ihall not always be forgotten* 



236 



NOTE XXI. 

His charity toward sinners, in offering them every 
spiritual assista?zce. 

THE concern, which M. de la Flechere ex- 
pressed for the relief of the unfortunate and afflict- 
ed, was truly uncommon ; but his compassion was 
still more abundant toward the immoral and profane, 
whom he constantly regarded as the most miserable 
of men. While he detested vice, he pitied the vi- 
cious ; and while he fled from sin, as from the 
face of a serpent, he turned to the sinner with the 
warmest emotions of benevolence and charity. Con- 
sidering the wicked as poor beyond the power of ex- 
pression, he joyfully presented them with the pearl 
of great price. He saw them wandering as sheep 
without a shepherd, and endeavoured to conduct 
them to the fold of God : he beheld them attempt- 
ing to quench their thirst at the poisoned streams of 
worldly pleasure, and affectionately invited them to 
the fountain of living waters: he saw them heedless- 
ly rushing to the gates of death, and labored to turn 
their feet into the way everlasting. Animated with 
that burning charity, by which St. Paul was impel- 
led to publish the Gospel from nation to nation, this 
evangelical preacher was constrained not only within, 
but beyond the limits of his. parish, to follow after 
the ignorant, the careless, and the abandoned, warn- 
ing every man, and teaching every man in all wisdom^ 
that he might present every man perfect in Christ Jesu*» 



237 



Considering the business, with which he was fcharged? 
as an employment of the highest importance, with- 
out paying any servile attention to times or places, he 
lost no opportunity of executing the commission he 
had received. His highest wish was to convert the 
wicked from the error of his way-; and., in the course 
©f so arduous an undertaking, he was prepared, at 
the command of his Lord, to go forth into the high- 
ways and hedges with the invitations of the Gospel ; 
anxious to do the work of an evangelist with all possi- 
ble fidelity, and not ashamed, that every hour and 
every place should bear testimony to the affectionate 
zeal, with which he labored for the welfare of the 
church. As the miser toils to increase his hoards, 
ahd as the ambitious person studies to advance his 
reputation in the world ; with equal assiduity and de- 
sire this holy man endeavoured to promote the refor- 
mation of the ungodly. Risi?tg up early , and late ta- 
king rest j he was employed, either directly or indi- 
rectly, through the whole of the day, in hiring labor- 
ers into the service of his Lord. To engage their 
attention and excite their desire, he set before them 
the freedom of that service, the honors that attend it, 
and the rewards that follow- it : to strengthen their 
feeble resolution, he joyfully offered them every bro- 
therly assistance ; and to &hame their inactivity, he 
pointed them to the example of those who cheer- 
fully bore all the burden and heat of the day. As an 
affectionate father conducts himself toward his diso- 
bedient children, reproving and alluring, admonish- 
ing and persuading them, with evesy affecting testi- 
mony of parental tenderness ; so this spiritual father 



238 



conducted himself toward the children of transgres- 
sion and impiety, seeking by every affectionate me- 
thod, to engage them in the pursuit of that holiness, 
without which no man shall see the Lord. 

With respect to individuals, he was peculiarly 
careful to choose the fittest opportunities of conver- 
sing with them upon sacred subjects. In the day of 
their prosperity he sometimes spake to them, as it 
were, at a distance ; but in the day of their adversity, 
he redoubled his efforts, and followed them with the 
most familiar attention ; fully persuaded, that reli- 
gious impressions can never be made in a more fa- 
vorable season, than when the heart has been soften- 
ed by previous afflicting providences. Were tbey 
destitute of spiritual knowledge.... he explained to 
them the mysteries of evangelical truth : were they 
presuming upon the mercy, they had formerly abused 
....he awakened their fears by representations of that 
righteous wrath, which is revealed f rem Hccven against 
all ungodliness : were they doubtful of ever finding 
acceptance with God. ...he animated their hopes, and 
encouraged them to a steady dependence upon the 
promises of God ; happily adapting his several ap- 
plications to the circumstances of his spiritual pa- 
tients. Such was ths ardent charity of this father 
in Christ toward the depraved and unbelieving, where- 
ver he discovered them ; a charity, which was fre- 
quently no less effectual in its operations, than pow- 
erful in its essence. A number of instances might here 
be produced, in which the efforts of his love were 
crowned with success. But, without selecting 



239 



examples from such a cloud of witnesses, as are to 
be found within the compass of his stated labors, I 
shall content myself with mentioning a particular in- 
stance of this kind, which occurred in the 'course of 
his travels on the continent. 

Meeting some years ago with a young Genoese, 
who was returning from Antibes to Genoa, M. de 
la Flechere, who was taking the same route, very 
courteously accepted the offer of his company. Af- 
ter a short conversation had taken place between 
them, our pious traveller was deeply afflicted to dis- 
cover, that his companion had largely imbibed the 
sceptical notions of the day. Upon this discovery, 
he beheld the youth with a mixture of compassion 
and hope, secretly determining to improve the pro- 
vidence, which had cast this young stranger in his 
way, by attempting to lead him from the grossness 
of materialism, to the spirituality of the Gospel. As 
they were detained several days at Monacho by con- 
trary winds, he thankfully embraced the favorable 
importunity of conversing with his fellow-traveller, 
in the freest and most affectionate manner. At first, 
the young man maintained his own sentiments with a 
great degree of warmth, and with a strong persuasion, 
that every attempt to refute them would be ineffec- 
tual ; but, in the course of a few hours, he was un- 
expectedly staggered by the forcible arguments of 
his wiser opponent. At the end of two days debate, 
he frankly acknowledged himself vanquished, and ex- 
pressed a desire, that the controversy might be turn- 
ed into a liberal enquiry respecting the nature of re- 



240 



vealed religion. Here M. de la Flechere entered 
upon apart of his province, to which he was always 
especially disposed, explaining the scriptures in a 
manner peculiar to himself, equally intelligible and 
sublime, leading on his astonished companion from 
mystery to mystery, and opening before him an un- 
bounded prospect of grace and glory. The young 
man was struck with the masterly skill, and affected 
with the more than parental concern of his instruct- 
or. He looked up to him with reverence, and listen- 
ed to him with admiration : and still, the longer he at- 
tended to his discourse, the more he was athirst for 
information, renewing the sacred subject, with little 
intermission, from morning to night. At length, 
he was constrained to acknowledge the natural de- 
pravity and darkness of his mind, bewailing his for- 
mer inattention to the most momentous concerns, 
and lamenting, with many tears, that he had wander- 
ed so long without the help of an experienced guide, 
to extricate him from the mazes of delusion and er- 
ror. From this time? he desired to be present at 
morning and evening prayer, on which occasions M. 
de la Flechere was careful to expound some portion 
of scripture peculiarly adapted to his circumstances : 
and, during the continuance of these devotional exer- 
cises, such was the solemn attention and deportment 
of this altered youth, that a stranger would have sup- 
posed him a student of deep experience in the school 
of Christ. These religious impressions were not 
only continued, but deepened, from day to day, till 
their arrival at Genoa j when M. de la Flechere had 
the satisfaction of observing, in the character of hi* 



241 



amiable companion, every apparent token of a teal 
and permanent change. During M. de la Flech- 
ere's continuance at this place, he had frequent op- 
portunities of conversing with his new acquaintance, 
from whom he received many testimonies of affec- 
tionate regard, and whom he endeavoured to estab- 
lish in the faith of the Gospel. He gave him such 
directions and warnings, as were suited to his state. 
He exhorted him to search the scriptures, and to con- 
tinue instant in prayer. He set before him the trials 
and difficulties, which would probably attend his spi- 
ritual progress, together with the advantages and 
consolations, which must necessarily acompany a re- 
ligious life. He guarded him against the devices of 
an ensnaring world, and pointed out the vanity of its 
richest gifts. ...how transient its smiles, how trifling 
its honors, how uncertain its riches, how incon- 
stant its friendship, how feeble its supports.. .. ill- 
treating him to mark it down in his memory, that 
the friend of the world is the enemy of God. And 
now being called away from Genoa, after taking 
a most affectionate leave of his young disciple, and 
commending him to the grace of God in solemn 
.prayer, he went on his way rejoicing. 



X 



242 



NOTE XXII. 

His courage in defence of oppressed truth. 

THOUGH truth has niany professed admir- 
ers, yet she seldom finds a steady follower, and still 
less frequently a resolute defender. Without a so- 
lid understanding, an upright heart, and an uncon- 
querable resolution, no man is properly qualified to 
maintain the rights of truth. He, that is void of un- 
derstanding, will never discover the worth of truth ; 
he, thajt is destitute of an upright heart, will feel but 
little attachment to truth, notwithstanding all her 
worth ; while he, that is of an irresolute temper, 
will rather desert her standard than suffer in her 
cause. Balaam was eminently distinguished by a 
spirit of discernment, but was destitute of an upright 
heart ; Peter was possessed of an upright heart, but 
betrayed, on a memorable occasion, the want of an 
undaunted spirit; Saul, the pharisee, though re- 
markable for his uprightness and resolution, was 
miserably defective with respect to spiritual discern- 
ment; while Paul, the apostle, uniting in hia charac- 
ter these several qualifications, became a zealous 
and steady defender of truth. It would be diffi- 
cult to say, in which of these three, qualifications M. 
de la Flechere principally excelled; so happily pro- 
portioned was his sincerity to his discernment, and 
the firmness of his resolution to the uprightness of 
his heart. Thus remarkably furnished fcr the ser- 
vice of truth, he engaged himself in her cause, with 
an extraordinary degree of activity and zeal, earnest- 



243 



ly desiring to see the uttermost parts of the earth 
illuminated with her beams, and the inhabitants of 
every country submitting to her authority. Wher- 
ever he came, he exalted her honors, and bore testi- 
mony to her matchless worth, making mention of 
her ways, as ways of pleasantness , and commending 
her paths, as paths of peace. Whenever he saw spi- 
ritual truth triumphant, he rejoiced at the sight, as 
one that findcth great spoil : when he beheld her des- 
pised and rejected, he cheerfully shared her dis- 
grace, and suffered in her cause. If her excellen- 
cies were at any time obscured by the misconcep- 
tions of the ignorant, he endeavoured to dissipate 
that obscurity, and exhibit her to the world in all her 
native lustre. If he saw her assaulted, lie volunta- 
rily exposed himself to danger in her defence : and 
whether the attack was made by mistaken friends, 
or inveterate enemies, he opposed it, as a man whol- 
ly proof against the undue influence of prejudice or 
interest, resentment or respect. In all his strug- 
gles for truth", he contended with confidence, but 
without obstinacy ; with zeal, but not with bitter- 
ness ; in meekness instructing those that opposed them- 
selves, if God, fieradvtnture, might give them repent- 
ance to the acknowledging of the truth. If the error 
he discovered was merely of a circumstantial nature, 
he pursued it with less severity ; but if it was a fun- 
damental error, he opposed it with a holy vehemence, 
giving it no quarter, till it was allowed, by the candid 
and impartial, to be absolutely untenable : in the mean 
time, making it abundantly manifest, by his modest 
and courteous deportment, that he contended, not for 



244 



the acquisition of victory, but for the exaltation of 
truth, » 

His ardent attachment to divrne truth would not 
permit him to hear, in Silence, the least insinuation, 
that might be thrown out to the disadvantage of 
Christianity. And in some companies, he thought it 
necessary to call upon the avowed despisers of reve- 
lation, either to establish or retract the charges they 
had exhibited against the religion of Jesus. In Eng- 
land he very rarely mixed with persons of an irreli- 
gious- conversation ^ but in his passage through other 
countries, he was frequently obliged to associate 
with men of a character altogether opposite to his 
own. In Italy, France, and Holland, he has taken 
his seat, with a steady composure, among deists, so- 
ot mans, and free-thinkers ; and after vainly endea- 
vouring, in the politest manner, to introduce a con- 
versation respecting divine truth, has been often con- 
strained to signify his desire of exchanging an ar- 
gument, with any gentleman in company, on the sub- 
ject ©f natural religion. As these offers were always 
made in the most graceful terms, they were frequent- 
ly accepted in a becoming manner, when a conversa- 
tion has usually taken place, sufficiently interesting 
to excite •the curiosity and engage the attention 
of every person present. Upon every occasion of 
this nature, he appeared perfectly dispassionate 
and recollected, discovering an accurate acquaintance 
with every part of his subject, and never failing to foil 
his strongest antagonists upon their own ground. 
And in the close of every such debate, he was care- 



2i2 



ful to recapitulate the principal arguments which had 
been advanced by either party, in the course of the 
contest ; ascribing the victory he had obtained to the 
irresistable power of truth, and enumerating the spe- 
cial advantages of revealed, over natural, religion. 

Some years ago, he met with a traveller on the 
Continent, who had adopted the sentiments of Vol- 
taire, with respect to the religion of Jesus ; a man 
of rmach information and refinement, and a strenu- 
ous opposer of the christian faith. This gentleman 
no sooner understood that he was sitting in company 
with a zealous defender of scriptural truth, but, con- 
fiding in his own superiority, he carelessly threw out 
the gauntlet, by ridiculing the sentiments which M. 
de la Flechere maintained. Our pious traveller im- 
mediately accepted the challenge with a modest as- 
surance, and the conversation between these two a?- 
pie disputants soon became serious. Every argu- 
ment on either side, was proposed with the greatest 
caution, and every proposition examined with the 
nicest accuracy. After the contest had continued 
for several hours together, the gentleman grew im- 
patient at his want of success : while his calmer op- 
ponent confuted and exposed the tenets, he had vain- 
ly endeavoured to maintain. This debate was con- 
tinued, by adjournment, for the space of a week : and, 
during this season, whatever had been said upon the 
subject, by the most celebrated writers, was regularly 
brought forward and thoroughly canvassed. M. de la 
Flechere repeatedly overcame his antagonist, whose 

arguments became more languid and ineffectual 

x 2 



24G 



toward the close of the debate, and who regularly 
lost his temper and his cause together. In the 
course of this controversy, M. de la Flechere, took a 
view of the christian's enviable life, his consolation in 
trouble, and his tranquility in danger ; together with 
his absolute superiority to all the evils of life and the 
horrors of death ; interspersing his remarks with 
many affectionate admonitions, and powerful persua- 
sives, to a rational dependence upon the truths of 
the Gospel. Such was the conclusion of this 

memorable debate, in the course of which, the un- 
successful disputant conceived so exalted an idea of 
his opponent's character, that he never afterwards 
mentioned his name, but with peculiar veneration and 
regard. And, as a proof that this regard was un- 
feigned, meeting with M. de la Flechere about eight 
years afterwards in Provence, where he lived in afflu- 
ence and ease, he shewed him every possible civility, 
entertaining him at his own house in the most hos- 
pitable manner, and listening to his conversation on 
spiritual subjects, with all imaginable attention and 
respect. 

Such was the manner, in which M. de la Flech- 
ere acquitted himself in the defence of oppressed 
truth ; and whether his efforts were successful or not, 
he left behind him, in every place sufficient proofs of 
the acuteness, resolution, and constancy, with which 
i>e exerted himself in her cause. 



247 



NOTE XXIII. 

ITis tenderness toward others, and his severity toward 
himself. 

IT was observed to the disgrace of the ancient 
scribes, that they bound heavy burdens upon others, 
which they themselves refused to touch with one of 
their fingers : and their uncharitable conduct, in this 
respect, was publicly condemned by the blessed Je- 
sus, who pronounced the severest judgments upon 
their self-indulgence. Contrasted with the carriage 
of those illiberal pretenders to piety, the conduct of 
M. de la Flechere appeared in a tru!$ admirable and 
exemplary point of view. Far from subjecting o- 
thers to those hardships and restraints, which he re- 
fused to impose upon himself, he cheerfully endea- 
voured to lighten the burdens of his brethren, though 
it was by redoubling his own. He laboured to quick- 
en, and not to retard, the progress of the weak and 
inexperienced. He compassionated their defects* 
and made excuse for their constitutional infirmities* 
in the manner of his gracious Master, who kindly 
apologized for the inattention of his sleeping disci- 
ples. He studied to present the religion of Jesus, 
in its most alluring form, not as a vial of wrath, but 
as a cup of consolation ; not as a galling yoke, but as 
a sacred tie ; not as a depressing burden, but as a 
never-failing support. When he beheld the incau- 
tious entangled in the mazes of temptation, he ten«- 
tlerly lamented the effects of their indiscretion ; and 
instead of throwing unnecessary impediments in the. 



243 



way of their escape, he affectionately laboured to 
break through the snare, and deliver the captive. If 
his brother was overtaken in a fault, he endeavoured 
to restore him in the spirit of meekness. ...if his con- 
science was wounded with a sense of guilt, he has- 
tened to meet him with healing remedies.. ..if he was 
overwhelmed with the dread of his besetting sin, and 
harassed with the apprehension of future miscarri- 
ages, he encouraged him to come boldly to the throne 
of grace, that he might obtain mercy ^ and find grace 
to help in every time of need. In his whole deport- 
ment toward the ignorant and unfaithful, he copied 
the character of a skillful and affectionate preceptor, 
who keeps future difficulties as far removed as pos- 
sible from the view of his pupils, accommodating 
their exercises to their several capacities, overlook- 
ing their past negligence, supplying their present de- 
ficiencies, and mentioning their poor attainments with 
commendation and praise. 

But w r hile his conduct toward others was marked 
with unusual lenity and tenderness, he exercised the 
strictest severity with regard to himself. He sought 
after an entire conformity to the perfect mill of God. 
And to accelerate his progress toward this desirable 
state, he cheerfully renounced his natural habits, and 
resolutely opposed his own will, unweariedly labour- 
ing to bring every thought into captivity to the obedi* 
ence of Christ. He struggled against the most inno- 
cent of his infirmities ; he entered upon the most 
painful exercises ; and refused to allow himself in 
the least temporary indulgencies, which were not per- 



249 



fectly consistent with a- life of unfeigned mortification 
and self-denial. He engaged himself rn every kind 
©f spiritual labor, with the most intense application, 
suffering no talent to remain unoccupied, nor any 
moment to pass by unimproved : smd so perfectly was 
he inured to habits of christian industry, that he 
never discovered an inclination to sweeten the most 
laborious exercises, with those refreshments and re- 
laxations, which he esteemed not only allowable, but, 
in some cases, necessary, to his weaker brethren. 
Considering himself as a member of Christ's militant 
church, he complained of no hardships, nor thought 
any difficulty too great to be encountered, in the 
course of his warfare. He was careful t© act, in 
every instance, consistently with his high profession ; 
training himself up to spiritual hardness and activity, 
by a resolute attention to the strictest rules of chris- 
tian discipline ; preferring the path of duty before the 
lap of repose ; neither listening to the suggestions of 
fear, nor regarding the dictates of worldly prudence $ 
stifling even the necessary calls of nature, that he 
might follow, with less interruption, the leadings of 
grace ; and, finally, counting neither ease, nor inter- 
est, nor reputation, nor even life itself, char to him, 
that he might jinish his course with joy* 



25© 



NOTE XXIV. 

JTis perfect disinterestedness* 

UPON his discovering the goodly pearl of evan- 
gelical truth, M. de la Flechere, like the merchant in 
the gospel, immediately barteredhis all for the posses- 
sion of so in valuable a gem. Till then, he had been en- 
gaged in pursuits of a worldly nature : but, from that 
time, he sought after no other treasure than the un- 
searchable riches of grace, nor desired any inheritance 
exceptthat, which is reserved for the saintsin everlast- 
ing light. Through every periodof his religious life, he 
appeared as a pilgrim and stranger in the world, unal- 
lured by its smiles, unmoved by its frowns, and unin- 
terested in its changes. His affections were wholly 
fixed upon things above ; and while thousands and 
ten thousands were contending around.him for the ad- 
vantages and honors of the present life, he desired to 
pass unnoticed through its idle hurry, without being 
entangled in its concerns, or encumbered with its 
gifts. It was with him, as with a person engaged in 
a race which must be attended with immense gain, 
or irreparable loss. ...he kept his eye immoveably fix- 
ed upon the goal ; and whatever gilded trifles were 
thrown in his way, he resolutely trampled on them 
all, uninterruptedly pressing tovjard the mark, for the 
prize of his high calling in Christ Jesus. His mind was 
never distracted with a multiplicity of objects, nor 
did he ever mingle temporal expectations with eternal 
hopes. Considering one thing only absolutely neces- 
sary to his happiness, and while he pursued the sub- 



251 

stance, he rejected the shadow : and while he conten- 
ded for an incorruptable crown, he had no ambition 
to appear in the fading garlands of earthly glory. 
Possessed of that faith which overcometh the worldy 
he beheld it with the feelings of his tempted Master ; 
anxious for its good but despising its yoke ; prepared 
to labor in its service, but resolute to reject its re- 
wards ; deaf to its promises, blind to its prospects, 
and dead to his enjoyments. 

He received, indeed, a part of his maintainance 
from the altar at which he served : but so scanty was 
the income produced by his parish, that it Scarcely 
sufficed, in some years, for the liberality of his con- 
tributions toward the relief of the poor. Yet so per- 
fectly satisfied was he with his inconsiderable appoint- 
ments at Madeley, that he desired nothing more than 
to conclude both his labors and his life in that favor- 
ed village. Had he been disposed to improve every 
favourable opportunity of advancing his temporal in- 
terests, he might have succeeded beyond many, who 
are anxiously plotting and contriving the means of 
their future promotion in the world. But, as a proof 
of his superiority to every allurement of this nature, 
he peremptorily refused, once and again, the oiler 
of additional preferment.*' And, as a further testi- 
mony of his perfect disinterestedness, after having 



* Have you more joy, when your preaching augments your 
income, than when you observe a wandering sheep conduct- 
ed into the right waj ? then conclude, that you preach more 
for mammon than for Christ. 



252 



so far destroyed his healtS, by the excess of his labors, 
that he was obliged to retire for a season from his 
charge, he solemnly determined, in case of continued 
weakness, to give up together the profits and duties 
of his ministerial station. 

I cannot here pass by an affecting instance of his 
disinterested disposition, which occurred a year or 
two before his decease. Mr. and Mrs. de la Flech- 
ere were earnestly requested by several serious per- 
sons at Dublin, to come over for a few weeks for the 
purpose of promoting the interests of religion in thai 
city, by their godly exhortations and example. Sc 
long as civility or piety would suffer it, they de- 
clined the journey : but after being repeatedly urged 
to undertake it, at the united instances of a christian 
society, they judged it improper any longer to with- 
hold their consent, lest, in disregarding the solicita- 
tions of a willing people, they should disobey the 
summons of God. Accordingly they accepted the 
invitation, and appeared for a season in another king- 
dom, as two burning and shining lights. A gentlemar 
of Dublin, who enjoyed much of their company dur- 
ing this holy visit, writes as follows. " I wish it were 
"*in my power to send you any anecdotes of our 
" dear deceased friend. But, unless I were to send 
w you on account of the words and actions of every 
u day, I know not were to begin. One particular 
" circumstance, however, I will relate.. ..Upon his 
" going to leave us, knowing the scanty pittance he 
" received from his parish, we thought it but an act 
" of common honesty to refund him the expense he 



253 



" had been at in coming, and to bear his charges back 
" again. Accordingly, after he had preached, on the 
" last evening of his stay among us, the steward and 
" trustees united to press his acceptance of a small 
< £ purse, not as a present, but as a debt justly due to 
" him. But he firmly and absolutely refused it. At 
« length, being very urgent with him, and importu- 
" nate to an excess, he took the purse in his hand. 
« Well, saidiie, do you really force it upon me ? Must 
« 7 accept of it ? Is it entirely mine ? And may I do 
« with it as I please ? Yes, yes, we all replied. God 
" be praised then, God be praised, said he, casting his 
u brim- fall eyes to Heaven, behold, what a mercy is 
'<*< here ! Your poor 9 s fund was just out : I heard some 
a °f V ou complaining that it was never so low before. 
li Take this purse. God has sent it you, raised it a- 
u mong yourselves, and bestowed it upon your poor. 
6i You cannot deny me. It is sacred to them. God 
"be praised! I thank you, I heartily thank you, my 
i<- dear kind brethren. Thus was Jiis free 

41 Gospel a bountiful provision for our poor, while 
" this last generous action served to harrow in the 
" precious seed, that his labor of love had been sow- 
*' ing among us. Indeed it was a crowning of his la- 
" bors, a sealing of his message, that will never be 
« forgotten by us, that is registered in the pages of 
u eternity, and will follow him among those works, 
" that he ever gloried to cast at the feet of Jesus." 

Nothing more remains to be said, but that the dis- 
position above described, not confined to pecuniary 
matters, was exemplified through the whole conduct 

Y 



254 



of M. de la Flechere, manifesting, upon all occasions, 
that he acted under the entire influence of that disin- 
terested charity ) which seeketh not her own. 



NOTE XXV. 

The respect he manifested for the holy istate of matri- 
mony, 

EARLY in life M. de la Flechere was in- 
troduced to the company of Miss Bosanquet, a lady 
of distinguished piety, and one who had been exposed 
to peculiar sufferings in the cause of godliness.... 
From the very first acquaintance of these two excel- 
lent persons, they were deeply sensible of each oth- 
er's worth, and felt the secret influence of a mutual 
attraction. But, notwithstanding the peculiar re- 
gard they entertained for each other, no intimate in- 
tercourse subsisted between them for many years 
after this period. Both were called to an extraor- 
dinary course of spiritual exercises : but, by the pro- 
vidence of God, they were appointed to labor in dif- 
ferent stations. While he was exhausting his strength 
in the service of his flock, she was no less honorably 
employed in applying an ample fortune to the relief 
of the friendless ; collecting together, and suppport- 
ing under her own roof, an extensive family, compo- 
sed of the afflicted, the indigent, and the helpless, 
but chiefly consisting of orphan children. To these 
occupations they devoted the prime of their days, and 



255 



during 1 more than twenty years unwearied attention to 
these sacred employments, no regular correspondence 
was maintained between them. They knew, how- 
ever, and rejoiced in each other's labors : but while 
every succeeding report tended to increase their mu- 
tual regard, they greatly endeavoured to turn the 
whole stream of their affections toward heavenly 
things, joyfully sacrificing every inferior consideration 
to the interest of the church, and the glory of their 
common Master. It was not till his last return 

from Switzerland, after his unexpected recovery 
from a dangerous illness, that M. de la Flechere re- 
newed his personal acquaintance with Miss Bosan- 
quet, who received him as a friend restored from 
the grave. They had each of them studiously fol- 
lowed the leadings of providence in their appointed 
stations ; and at this time a combination of extraordi- 
nary circumstances led them into those habits of in- 
timacy, which daily increased their deep-rooted at- 
tachment to each other. There existed on either 
side a variety of motives to their immediate union, 
and not a single reason of any weight for their con- 
tinued separation. Every seeming impediment was 
suddenly removed out of the w*ay, and all things 
wonderfully conspired to accelerate that entire con- 
nection between them, which promised a large addi- 
tion to their mutual comfort. At length, with the 
ftillest persuasion that they acted under the divine 
influence, they received each other at the altar, in 
the most selemn and affecting manner, as from the 
immediate hand of God, and in the presence of a 
multitude of friends, who rejoiced to see so much 



256 



solid piety and worth united by an indissoluble tie. 
This union took place on the 12th day of November, 
1781. And not long afterwards M. de la Fiechere 
conducted his truly amiable companion to the vicar- 
age of Macteley, where they reteived the unaffected 
salutations of a joyful people. 

From this period M. de la Fiechere considered 
himself as possessed of the last possible addition to 
his earthly happiness, never mentioning this, memo- 
rable event? but with expressions of extraordinary 
gratitude and devotion to the God of all his mercies. 
And from this time, to the other parts of his charac- 
ter, must be added that of an attentive and affection- 
ate husband, which he maintained with a becoming 
mixture of dignity and sweetness to the day of his 
death. By her christian conversation, her devotion- 
al habits, and her spiritual experience, Mrs. de la 
Fiechere was peculiarly suited t*> a state of the most 
entire and intimate fellowship with this eminent ser- 
vant of God. She was of equal standing with run- 
in the school of Christ, and of the same uncommoi 
growth in grace ; she had drank of the same spirr 
was actuated by the same zeal and prepared in ever 
respect to accompany him in the christian race. B 
her discretion and prudence she bore the whole wa 
©f his domestic cares ; while, by the natural activil 
of her mind and her deep acquaintance with divh 
things, she seconded his ministerial labors with 2 
Vanishing success. Like Zacharias and Elizabe 
these extraordinary persons were both eminently rii 
teoua before God, walking 1 in all the commandments c 



257 

ordinances *f the Lord boneless. In their separate 
stations they had long been distinquished as lights in 
dark places : but, after uniting their rays, they shone 
with redoubled lustre, putting to silence the ignorance 
of foolish men, and dissipating the prejudices which 
many had entertained against the truths of the Gos- 
pel. * It is with difficulty that I forbear to 



* The attention of ministers in- choosing such companions 
as may not binder their success in the ministry, is of so great 
importance, that in some countries the conduct of apastor's 
wife, as well as that of the pastor himself, is supposed either 
to edify or mislead the flock. Nay, the minister himself is 
frequently condemned for the faults of his wife : thus, in the 
protestant churches of Hungary, they degrade a pastor, 
whose wife indulges herself in cards, dancing, or any other 
public amusement, which bespeaks the gaiety of a lover of 
the world, rather than the gravity of a christian matron. 
This severity springs from the supposition, that the woman, 
having promised obedience to her husband, can do nothing 
but what he either directs or approves. Hence, they con- 
clude, that example having a greater influence than precept, 
the wife of a minister, if she is inclined to the world, will 
preach worldly compliance with more success by her con- 
duct, than her husband can preach the enunciation of the 
world by the most solemn discourses. And the incredulity 
of the stumbled flock will always be the consequence of that 
unhappy inconsistency, which is observable between the se- 
rious instructions of a well-disposed minister, and the tri- 
fling conduct of a woman with whom he is so intimately 
connected. Nor are there wanting apostolic ordinances 
sufficient to support the exercise of this severe discipline 
E-ven so must their wives be grave, not slanderers, sober \ faithful 
hi all things. Let the Bishop or Deacon be one thai rultth. 
veil his own house, having his children, and every part of his 
Y 2 



enlarge upon this point : but as the world will proba- 
bly one day be favored with a more interesting detail? 
relative to this part of my subject, to add any thing 
more in this place, would be only to forestal what it 
«an by no means render unnecessary. 

For the space of almost four years, these chris- 
tian yoke-fellows continued to enjoy, without interrup- 
tions all the inexpressible felicities of the most com- 
plete union, a union which appeared to promote, at 
©nee, their own particular happiness, and the interests 
of the people among whom they jointly labored. ..when 
M. de la Flechere was unexpectedly called from an 
imperfect anticipation, to the full fruition, of heaven- 
ly blessedness. This afnicting providence was se- 
verely felt by the surviving party, who lost at this 
separating stroke whatever she had counted most 
valuable on this side eternity. But, while she felt 
ail the anguish of an immediate separation from her 
dearest friend, she looked forward with a joyful hope 
©f being one day united to his happy spirit, where 
the pangs cf parting can be known no more. Mrs. 
de la Flechere was surrounded, upon this sad occa- 
sion, by a multitude of sincere mourners, who, while 
they deplored the loss of their inestimable pastor, 
recollected, with peculiar satisfaction, that the last 
years cf his life had been years of abundant consola- 
tion and peace :....and who now rejoice that, in his- 



family, in subjection with all gravity : for if a man know net 
imv to rule his mm house, how shall he take ea?e of thexfiweb 
tfGod? ITfm. BL 4, 5, 11. 



259 



removal from among them, he left behind him a live- 
ly representative of himself, one who enters into his 
labors and watches over his flock, a support to the 
needy, a guide to the ignorant, and { a mother in 
Israel. 



NOTE XXVI. 

His patience and fortitude under the severest trials, 

THQUy O Gody hast tried us like as silver z> 
tried, has been the language of the faithful in every 
period of the church : for whom the Lord loveth he 
thasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom lie receivet/u 
Of that chastisement^ whereof all the children of the 
Kingdom are fiar takers, M. de la Flechere was not 
without a painful share. He had fellowship with 
Christ in his sufferings, and could bear ample testi- 
mony to the fatherly corrections of that righteous 
God, whose fire is in Sion, and his furnace in Jerusa- 
lem. His trials were of various kinds, frequently re- 
peated, many times of long continuance, and, on some 
occasions, peculiarly severe. But from whatever 
quarter his trials arose, whether he suffered through 
bodily infirmity and pain, from the infidelity of false 
brethren, or from the despitefulness of open enemies, 
he suffered as a man unreservedly devoted to the 
will of God, regarding neither ease nor health, the 
consolations of social intercourse, nor the estimation 
©f the world; but so far as they tended to promote 



26© 



either the welfare of his brethren, or the glory of 
their common Lord. 

Three things were especially observable in his 
conduct, with respect to trials in general. First. He 
was careful never to plunge himself into difficulties 
through inadvertence and precipitation. Conscious 
that his path was encompassed with innumerable 
dangers and snares, he proceeded in his course with 
the utmost wariness and circumspection, deliberat- 
ing on the tendency of every expression, and weigh- 
ing the probable consequences of every step. With- 
out swerving to the one hand by intemperate zeal, 
or to the other by worldly compliance, he steadily 
persevered in the path of duty, endeavouring to have 
always a conscience void of offence 3 toward God and to- 
ward men, 

Secondly. Wherever he saw a trial awaiting him 
in the order of providence, how terrific an aspect 
soever it might wear, he went on to meet it without 
the least Indications of despondency or fear. He 
esteemed no difficulty too great to be surmounted, 
no cross too heavy to be endured, nor any enemy 
too strong to be opposed, in the way of God's ap- 
pointment. Here he considered himseif as under the 
immediate protection of the Almighty, and knowing 
in whom he believed, he committed the keeping of his soul 
to him in well-doings as unto a faithful Creator. 

Thirdly. He entered into the conflict under a 
Jlvely impression of the truth of that apostolic de- 



261 



claration : Blessed is the man that endure th temptation; 
for when he is tried^ he shall receive the crown of life* 
This sentiment sustained him in the day of trouble, 
and produced in him a degree of fortitude proportion- 
ed to the severity of the trial. He could smile under 
the languors of disease and the violence of pain, he 
could hear, without emotion, the reproaches of ma- 
il ce, and receive, without resentment, the shafts of 
ingratitude ; counting it all joy when he fell into divers 
temptations, and glorifying the Lord in the fiercest f res 
of affliction. But while he discovered an 

astonishing degree of firmness ufcder the sharpest tri- 
als, he was a perfect stranger to the stoical sulienness, 
which steels the heart against the attacks of adver- 
sity. His fortitude was sustained, not by insensibili- 
ty, but by patience and resignation. Through the 
most afflicting providential dispensations, his atten- 
tion was fixed upon that wondrous example of pa- 
tient suffering, which was exhibited in the High 
Priest of his profession : and if ever his sensibility 
constrained him to cry out, -Father, if it be possible, let 
this cup pass from me ; his resignation as constantly 
disposed him to add, nevertheless, not my will, bus 
thine be done. Such was the conduct of M. de la 
Flechere with respect to trials of every kind. He 
never created them through imprudence ; he never* 
avoided them through timidity ; he never endured 
them, but with an uncommon share of fortitude and 
patience : and it may be added, that he never expe- 
rienced the removal of a trial, without thankfully as- 
cribing his support under it, and his deliverance from 



262 



it, to the gracious interference of that invisible arm, 
which is mighty to save. 

With such dispositions, it is not difficult to con- 
ceive that, like Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah, he 
held communion with the Son of God in the hottest 
furnace of affliction ; or that, like Job, he came forth 
from the most grievous trials as gold purified in the 
lire. The friends he has left behind him can joyfully 
testify, that he had learned the happy art of glorying 
even in tribulations; from a consciousness, that 
tribulation worketh patience ; and patience, experience ; 
and experience, hope. Nay, they are further prepar- 
ed to testify, that his hope was matured into the full- 
est assurance, when they recollect how he would fre- 
quently come forth from a state of keen distress, re- 
peating the confidential exclamation of the great a- 
postle : Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? 
shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, 
or nakedness, or peril, or sword ? Nay, in all these 
things we are more than conquerors, through him that 
hath loved us, 

NOTE XXVII. 

The sweet suspense of his choice between life and death. 

WHILE M. dela Flechere was zealously en- 
gaged in fighting the good fight of faiih, he looked 
forward with increasing desire ; to the happy moment, 



263 



when be%hould exchange the weapons of war for the 
crown of glory. Not that he was averse to the du- 
ties of his vocation, or wearied with the length of 
his services : but, being exceedingly athirst for God, 
as the hart panteth after the water breoks, so panted 
his soul after the more immediate presence of God. 
Though he was favoured with the enjoyment of ma- 
ny inestimable blessings by the way, yet he looked, 
with unutterable longings, to the end of his course ; 
knowing that to be at home in the body, is to be ab- 
sent from the Lord. Though he expressed inexpres- 
sible delight in the society of such as worshipped in 
the outer courts of the Lord's house ; still he saw it 
infinitely more desirable to associate with the spirits 
of just men made perfect , in the inner places of his in- 
visible temple. And though he was, at times, per- 
mitted a momentary glimpse of heavenly mysteries, 
yet he earnestly desired that, mortality being swal- 
lowed up of life, he might behold with open face the 
glory of the Lord. This desire, which accom- 

panied him through every state, was expressed, with 
a more than ordinary degree of fervor, in seasons of 
weakness and disease, in these solemn intervals, 
when he appeared to be speedily advancing toward 
the confines of eternity, he rejoiced as a weary travel- 
ler within sight of his home. His immortal pros- 
pects became more enlarged and transporting, his 
conversation was correspondent to the grandeur of 
his views, and his whole appearance was that of a 
man, already clothed in the wedding garment, and 
hastening to sit down at the mamage supper of the Lamb. 
There was something in his deportment upon these 



264 



awful occasions, which reminded me of the transfi- 
guration of his master upon mount Tabor. ...While 
Moses and Elias were conversing with the blessed 
Jesus on his approaching decease, the fashion of his 
countenance zvas altered, and his raiment became wliite 
and glis:eri?ig: so, while the harbingers of death 
were apparently completing their work on the ema- 
ciated frame of this holy man, his silent meditations 
have been frequently accompanied with so much visi- 
ble delight, such an extatic glow has diffused itself 
over his whole countenance, and his eye has been 
directed upwards w T ith a look of such inexpressible 
sweetness, that one would almost have supposed him, 
at such seasons, conversing with Angelical spirits on 
his approaching dissolution, and the glory that should 
follow. 

But, notwithstanding the intimate views he en- 
joyed of a happy immortality, and the intense desire 
he expressed to be with Christ ; when he considered 
the importance of his Charge, and the probability of 
his being rendered further serviceable to the church, 
charity toward his companions in tribulation gave 
birth to a new desire, and kept him in a state of 
sweet suspense between the labors of grace and 
the rewards of glory. It was in such a 

state that he took an affecting leave of his peo- 
ple at Madeley in the year 1776, when his dis- 
order had increased upon him to so alarming a de- 
gree, that the possibility of his recovery was univer- 
sally doubted. He delivered a discourse upon that 
occasion from those pertinent words of St. Paul; 



%6$ 



What I shall choose ', / wot not. For I am in a strait 
betwixt two, having a desire to defiart and to be with 
Christ ; which is far better : nevertheless^ abide in 
the Jlesh is more needful for you. In the course 

of this sermon he adverted, in the most pathetic 
terms, to the painful situation in which he then pre- 
sented himself to his hearers ; so debilitated by dis- 
ease, that he was unable any longer to discharge 
among them the public duties of his ministerial sta- 
tion. From his present weakness, he looked back to 
his past labors, making many affecting reflections 
upon his own unworthiness, the indubitable testimo- 
nies he had received of his people's unfeigned affec- 
tion) and the unusual success of his ministry among 
them. Here he enlarged upon the two leading de- 
sires of his soul. On the one hand, he made a so- 
lemn declaration of the earnest longing, with which 
he desired to be absent from the body, that he might be 
present with the Lord : and on the other 5 he express- 
ed a more tkan parental attachment to his people, an 
attachment, which excited in him a wish, that he 
might still be permitted to labor for their further- 
ance and establishment in the faith of the Gospel. 
But what to choose^ he knew not : nor was his pre- 
sent suspence attended with any degree of anxiety, 
since he foresaw unquestionable blessings awaiting 
him on either hand. He saw the balance poised 
by unerring wisdom, and was cheerfully content t© 
wait the issue, with one uninterrupted request. ...that) 
whether he lived, he might live unt® the Lord, or 
whether he died, he might die unto the Lord ; thaty 
whether living or dying, he might be the Lord's* 
z 



256 



Such was the sweet suspence which this man of 
God experienced, between a state of labor and a 
state of rest, which continued for more than two 
years, and which was at last happily determined in 
favor of his people, who were permitted the enjoy- 
ment of his ministry for a long season after this pe- 
riod, rejoicing in the goodness of the Lord, and abun- 
dantly profiting by the labors of his invigorated ser- 
vant. 



NOTE XXVIII. 

The constancy of his zeal and diligence to the end of 
his course* 

IT is no unusual thing, to behold the professors 
of Christianity divested, at a maturer age, of that 
burning love and that irresistable zeal, by which they 
were peculiarly distinguished in early life. Of the 
many thousands, who have in every age begun the 
sacred race with an apparent determination to obtain 
the prize, the greater part, either wearied with the 
inconveniences of the way, or deluded by the sugges- 
tions of the world, if they have not altogether forsak- 
en the path of life, have proceeded in it with so 
much irresolution and weakness, that, at the conclu- 
sion of their course, it has remained a matter of much 
uncertainty, whether they have reached, or fallen 
short of, the mark of their high calling. With M. 
de la Flechere it was wholly the reverse. The reso- 



sir 

lution that at first engaged him to enter upon the chris- 
tian course, appeared, not only without any diminu- 
tion, but with increasing" vigor, through the several 
stages of his rapid progress." He out-ran the most 
zealous of his companions, he overtook many who 
were steadily persevei mg in the .path of life, and ap- 
peared at the head of those who were pressing after 
the highest attainable states of sanctity and grace. 
From, the commencement, to the conclusion, of his 
pilgrimage, there was never once perceived in him 
the least imaginable tendency to a loitering or luke- 
warm disposition ; if lie was not every moment ac- 
tually upon the stretch after spiritual improvement, 
he was observed, at least, with his him girded, his 
shoes on his feet, and his staff in his hand. The fer- 
ver of his spirit was a silent but sharp reproof to the 
negligent and unfaithful : and so perfectly averse was 
he to every species of trifling, that no man of a light 
or indolent spirit could possibly associate with him 
for any length of time. 

As he approached the end of his course, the 
graces he had kept in continual exercise for so long 
a season, became more illustrious and powerful : his 
faith was more assured, his hope more lively, his cha- 
rity more abundant, his humility more profound, and 
his resignation more complete. Planted, at an early 
age, in the house of the Lord, he flourished in the 
courts of our God through all the remaining years of 
his life, growing up like a palm tree, and spreading a- 
broad like a cedar in Lebanon : and if the fruit that he 
brought forth in his age was not more plenteous than 



268 



that which he had produced in former years, (whrek 
was surely impossible) yet it was more happily ma- 
tured, and more equally distributed among his lux- 
uriant branches. To those who were intimately con- 
versant with him at this season, he appeared as a 
scholar of the highest attainments in the school of 
Christ ; or rather, as a regenerate spirit in his latest 
•state of preparation for the kingdom of God : and 
this extraordinary eminence in grace was discovera- 
ble in him, not from any high internal professions 
of sanctity, but from that meekness of vohdom, that 
purity of conversation j and that lowliness of windy by 
which his whole carriage was uniformly distin- 
guished^ 

Fee some years before his decease, he expressed 
a continual desire, that his labors and his life might 
be terminated together : and with respect to his re- 
signed prayer in this matter, the assertion of the 
Psalmist was strikingly verified,... The Lord will fulfil 
the desire, of them that fear him. His zeal for the. 
glory of God appeared with undiminished fervor, and 
his diligence in filling up the duties of his vocation 
continued with unabating vigor, till within a few days 
©f his removal into Abraham's bosom. Instead of 
out-living his zeal and diligence in the best of causes, 
it may truly be said, that he fell an honorable martyr 
to his indefatigable exertions in the service of the 
church ; since it was from the beds of the diseased and 
the dying, that he brought away with him the infec- 
tious distemper, which put so unexpected a period 
to his labors; But even after the symptoms of this 
distemper had appeared sufficiently alarming to a- 



269 



waken the apprehensions of his friends, they were 
unable either to damp his zeal or to control his activi- 
ty : his declining sun was to set, not in obscurity and 
confusion, but with that mild and steady lustre, 
which might betoken something of its future glory. 

On the sabbath day preceeding that on which he 
entered into rest, I called upon him in the morn- 
ing with an earnest request, that he would permit me, 
if not to take the whole of his duty on that day, at 
least to share it with him. But this he would by no 
means be prevailed upon to suffer, assuring me, with 
an air of holy confidence which I shall never forget, 
that God would sufficiently strengthen him to go thro* 
the duties of the day. This was his last appearance 
in public ; and several of my dearest friends, who 
were present upon this memorable occasion, were 
affected beyond all description, with the melancholy 
circumstances of the day. He opened the reading 
service with apparent strength ; but before he had 
proceeded far in it, his countenance changed, his 
speech began to falter, and , it was with the utmost 
difficulty that he could keep himself from fainting. 
Every eye was rivetted upon him, deep solicitude was 
painted in every face, and confused murmurs of dis- 
tress ran through the whole congregation. In the 
midst of this affecting scene, Mrs. Flechere was seen 
pressing through the crowd, and earnestly entreat- 
ing her dying husband no longer to attempt* what 
appeared to be utterly impracticable-. But he, as 
though conscious that he was engaged in his last pub- 
lic work, mildly refused to be intreated ; aadj strug- 



27© 



gling against an almost insupportable languor, con- 
strained himself to continue the service. In the 
course of his sermon, the idea of his weakness was 
almost lost in the freedom and energy with which he 
delivered himself. Mercy was the subject of his dis- 
course : and while he expatiated upon this glorious 
attribute of the Deity, its unsearchable extent,its eter- 
nal duration, and its astonishing effects, he appeared 
to be carried above all the fears and feelings of mor- 
tality. There was something in his appearance and 
manner that gave his word an irresistable influence 
upon this solemn occasion. An awful concern was 
awakened through the whole assembly, and every 
one's heart was uncommonly moved. Upon the 
hearts of bis friends, in particular, a most affecting 
impression was made at this season : and what deep- 
ened that impression was the sad firewentiment) which 
they read in each other's countenance, of their pas- 
tor's approaching dissolution. 

The same affecting scene was renewed, with ad- 
ditional solemnity, at the altar ; where his people 
beheld him offering up the last languid remains of a 
life, that had been lavishly spent in their service. In 
going through this last part of his duty, he was ex- 
hausted again and again : but his spiritual vigor tri- 
umphed over his bodily weakness. After several times 
sinking upon the sacramental table, he still resumed 
his sacred work, and cheerfully distributed, with his 
dying hand, the love-memorials of his dying Lord. 
In the course of this concluding office, which he per- 
formed by means of the most astonishing exertions^ 



2fi 

he delivered many affectionate exhortations to his 
people, calling upon tkem, at intervals, to celebrate 
the mercy of God in short songs of adoration and 
praise. And now, having struggled through a ser- 
vice of near four hours continuance, he was support- 
ed, with blessings in his mouth, from the altar to his 
chamber, where he lay for some time in a swoon, 
and from whence he never walked into the world 
again. 

Such was the last ministerial labor of this un- 
wearied pastor, who left behind him this, among 
many other proofs, that his zeal and diligence conti- 
nued to the end of his days, undiminished by the 
pressure of disease, and unrestrained by the ap~ 
proaches of death. 



NOTE XXIX. 

His triumph over the evils of life, and the terrors of 
death. 

AFTER having manifested so much resolu- 
tion and constancy in fighting the good fight of faith, 
it is no wonder, that M. de la Flechere was permitted 
\g> finish his course with joy, and that the concluding 
scenes of his warfare, were peculiarly triumphant and 
glorious. Equally prepared for every event, he met 
his last great trial with all that composure and steadi- 
ness, which had invariably distinguished him upon 



2?2 

every former occasion of suffering. He entered the 

valley of the shadow oj death, as one who feared no 
gvil. Ke considered it as the high road to that in- 
corruptible inheritance which is reserved for the 
saints ; and, looking forward with a hope full of im- 
mortality, he saw, beyond its limited gloom, those 
everlasting hills of light and glory to which his soul 
aspired. A few days before his dissolution, 

he appeared to have reached that desirable point, 
where the last rapturous discoveries are made to the 
souls of dying saints. Roused, as it were, with the 
shouts of angels, and kindled into rapture with visions 
of glory, he broke into a song of holy triumph, which 
began and ended With the praises of God's unfathom- 
able love. Re labored to declare the secret mani- 
festations he enjoyed, but his sensations were too 
powerful for utterance, and, after looking inexpressi- 
ble things, he contented himself with calling upon 
all around him to celebrate and shout out that ador- 
able love, which can never be fully comprehended or 
adequately expressed. This triumphant frame of 
mind was not a transient feeling, but a state that he 
continued to enjoy, with little or no discernible in- 
terruption, to the moment of his death. While he 
possessed the power of speech, he spake as one 
whose lips had been touched with a live coal from the 
altar ; and when deprived of that power, his counte- 
nance discovered that he was sweetly engaged in the 
contemplation of eternal things* 

On the day of his departure, a6 I was preparing 
%o attend my own church, which was at the distant 



©f nine miles from Madeley, I received a hasty mes* 
sage from Mrs. de la Flechere, requesting my im- 
mediate attendance at the vicarage. I instantly fol- 
lowed the messenger, and found M. de la Flechere 
with every symptom of approaching dissolution upon 
him. I had ever looked up to this man of God with 
an extraordinary degree of affection and reverence ; 
and on this afflicting occasion my heart was uncom- 
monly aSected and depressed. It was now in vain 
to recollect that public duty required my presence in 
another place : unfitted for every duty, except that 
of silently watching the bed of death, I found it im- 
possible to withdraw from the solemn scene to which 
I had been summoned. I had received from this 
evangelical teacher, in days that were passed, many 
e xcellent precepts with respect to holy living; and now 
I desired to receive from him the last important les- 
son with respect to holy dying. And truly this con- 
cluding lesson was of inestimable worth, since so 
much patience and resignation, so much peace and 
composure, were scarcely ever discovered in the same 
circumstances before.,.. Let me die the death of the righ- 
teous, and let viy last end be like his I 

While their pastor was breathing out Lis soul 
into the hands of a fmthjkl Creator, his people were 
offering up their joint supplications on his behalf in 
the house of God. Little however w T as seen among 
them on that trying occasion, but affliction and tears. 
Indeed it was a day much to be remembered for the 
many affecting testimonies of distress which appear- 
ed on every side. The whole village wore an air of 



274 



consternation and sadness, and not one joyful song 
was heard among iis inhabitants. ...Hasty messengers 
were passing to and fro with anxious enquiries and 
confused reports ...And the members of every family 
sat together in. silence that day, awaiting, with trem- 
bling expectation, the issue of every hour, After the 
conclusion of evening service, several of the poor, 
who came from distant parts, and who were usually 
entertained under M. de la Flechere's roof, still lin- 
gered about the house, and seemed unable to tear 
themselves away from the place, without a sight of 
their expiring pastor. Secretly informed of their^X 
desire, I obtained them the permission they wished. 
And the door of the chamber being set open, imme- 
diately before which M. de la Flechere was sitting 
upright in his bed with the curtains undrawn, unal- 
tered in his usual venerable appearance, they slowly 
moved one by one along the gallery, severally paus- 
ing as they passed by the door, and casting in a look 
of mingled supplication and anguish. It was, indee 
an affecting sight, to behold these unfeigned mourn- 
ers successively presenting themselves before the bed 
of their dying benefactor, with an inexpressible eager- 
ness in their looks, and then dragging themselves a- 
way from his presence with a distressing conscious- 
ness, that they should see his face no more. 

And now the hour speedily approached, that was 
to put a solemn termination to our hopes and fears. 
His weakness very perceptibly increased, but his 
countenance continued unaltered to the last. If there 
was any visible change in his feelings, he appeared 



more at ease and more sweetly composed, as the mo- 
ment of his dismission drew near. Our eyes were jr 
rivetted upon him in awful expectation. But, what- 
ever we had felt before, no murmuring thought was -i 
suffered, at this interesting period, to darken the glo- 
ries of so illustrious a scene. Ail was silence. ...when 
the last angelic messenger suddenly arrived, and per- 
formed his important commission with so much still* 
ness, and secrecy, that it was impossible to determine 
the exact moment of its completion. Mrs.de la Flechere 
was kneeling by the side of her departing husband ; 
one who had attended him with uncommon assiduity, 
during the last stages of his distemper, sat at his H 
head ; while I sorrowfully waited near his feet. Un- ^ 
1 certain, whether or not he was totally separated from 
us, we pressed nearer, and hung over his bed in the 
attitude of listening attention. ...his lips had ceased to 
move,and his head was gently sinking upon his bosom 
....we stretched out our hands ; but his warfare m g£ 
accomplished, and the happy spirit had taken its ever- 
lasting flight. 

Such was the undisturbed and triumphant death 
of this eminently holy and laborious pastor, who en- 
tered into rest on the evening of Sunday, August 14th, 
1785. Blessed are the dead> who die in the Lord ! 
They rest from their painful labors, and are followed 
by those exemplary works, which they considered as 
unworthy a place in their remembrance : they escafie 
from the windy storm and temfiest, and are brought to 
their desired haven : they have a right to the tree of 
#fe y they enter in through the gates into the city } and 



276 



stand with everlasting acceptance in the presence of 
God. On Sunday the 21st, a public tribute of re- 
spect was paid to the memory of this great man, in 
a funeral sermon delivered in the parish church of 
Madeley, by the Reverend Thomas Hatton, Rector 
of Waters Upton, who, in speaking from Hebrews 
xiii. and 7, addressed a numerous and deeply affected 
auditory in terms peculiarly adapted to the selemnitj 
ef the occasion. 



THE END. 



MAR 9 



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